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Feb 2015
Oh,
I loved Zane Grey,
the way his cowboys
shot through each day,
the tinhorns and telegraphs,
funeral directors and their
funereal laughs.
It's not the same since
Zane went away.

The range looks grey now.
How
I miss the grits and hominy,
if only Zane had
stayed
we could have played
cowboys and Indians
for real.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
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