day THIRTEEN HUNDRED and SEVENTY SEVEN

American Sunshine

In the good ‘ol days
we would sit around camp
knocking back shots
of disinfectant
like it was Colt 45 malt
trading barbs and sunshine,
our minds all lathered up
on Jesus and TV
pretending to be
The Wild Bunch.

We’d take turns pissing
on the constitution,
watching it burn
in the sacred flames of manhood.

Our women lifted scalps
and tied ‘em to their skirts.

We grew our own food,
made our own clothes,
kept our kids on a leash.

We had ironclad excuses
for side-kicking our dogs
but cried for the horses
when we shot ‘em.

There were protocols
for these sorts of things.

It was a great time to be shunned.

People still had fight in ‘em.

Democracy served our lips.

We hung law abidin’ citizens.

We didn’t need no stinking badges

and for the love of Christ

we never abandoned the stragglers.


--Stew Jorgenson