September 10, 2022

It's the crickets at the end of the day

That say everything the place has to say.

We traded cowboys for cowards,

Climactic showdowns for no words,

As needed resolutions slip away.

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Handed the mike, you fall back on the fifth.

The lasso's the rope you hang yourself with.

We traded cowboys for cowards

On a slippery path downwards

Into the vagaries of your mind's myth.

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You have been given the territory,

Lead us out of this damn purgatory.

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What's offered the most is needed the least

In a time when we stare down the rough beast.

We traded cowboys for cowards

While the vultures circle skywards,

Smelling the decay of their future feast.