Wednesday, September 13, 2006

poems for michael, one of five

With a little luck and a little life
a little mettle, a little strife
whittle twigs and bid "well gone!"
a tragic end to forgone yawn

MB Pell! The blaze of leather!

across Sonoran skies he rides
one for gun and one for reins
one for woman, one for pain
four hands on him this freak doth has?
four hands makes sense when you look past

1541's the year

conquistador glory and pueblo fear

a town of gold he seeks for Spain
a town of mud, his search in vain


Anonymous said...

Oh man, yeah this works. I only have an hour a day to spend surfing the net as I am prisoner at a medium security prison in Mass. I love poetry that lashes out at society.
Sean Bonzall

Matthew D Dunn said...

This is a good one dude.