A Screen Door On A Submarine
Inspiration Piece by Elizabeth Akin Stelling
Is about as useless, as
daddy’s telling their kids
pilgrims loaded their guns
How one horse towns are wastes
of time in the land of the Wild West.
A place that grew many up right.
Its undiscovered treasures
lay buried, still
under weight and guilt of progress.
Dead panhandlers reached right handed,
stripping the silver from rivers
paid for the evildoers hold’em, and
for piano men to play louder.
When bad tastes spit the townfolk
out, into the street
wild fires set the stage for bad acting, and
no mouth didn’t dare speak evil,
because every eye was dry
like Texas dirt.
After the wind rises; on a hot day
in July, lifting plagues from one stop
fast trains moving with big engines
everything is cleaned up.
When Clint, John, and Ford
walk off the screen
another set of trusting kids on the lookout
for war parties
running wild steeds in canyons
said goodbye to empty long barrels
and the last good cowboy.
‘A screen door on a submarine is as usless as a six gun on a stone angel’
Response Piece by Tyson West