High Noon

never have been one
for fondling form or the familiar -
finite syllables, as do fences feel restrictive
make me itch (bad), thirst
for a pool of calamine and a box
of benadryl
I like sticking out
like a good set of falsies against a landscape
with an endless horizon,
infinite possibilities
and quests of  promise

me - I wanna be
a Gary Cooper kind of poet
you know with deep dark eyes and a voice
capable of melting a frozen
rump roast faster than Superman on steroids
packing a six shooter
accented with a western string tie (now that is poetry)
but hell I'm not a man
come equipped with a revolver
guess I'll have to seek
out another kinda hero looking good
maybe in buckskin,
full breasted and fast to the draw
a Jane or an Annie
 (a heroine tote'n like minded armor)

Annie, now there
was a woman for you, got the man too
a man that could shoot and
will'n to carry his own gun - plus, Big Plus here - she got
a lifetime sponsorship with Oakley
that my friend is as good as it gets...

but none of this
nattering has a thing do with building fences, form or f..'n anything - for that matter
so lets get
back to form in poetry, well I say it is
what it is, and with
the sun screaming High Noon
I'm gonna call it Good - seal it, stamp it and submit it as
one of them  Italian Sonnets
grab me a beer and wait
on the rural carrier......

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

Posted for One Shot Wednesday...