A brand new sheriff came to town
I'm sure he's not the last
We've had fourteen in the past year
They leave here mighty fast

Some can't stand the pressure
Others end up in boot hill
It ain't easy being Sheriff
Here in Cactus Mill

He was tall, compared to most folks
That's what the undertaker said
"I'm just scouting for the future"
"In case he ends up dead"

He went into his office
Fired both deputies on sight
He said "you wanna get your job back"
"Then, you'll have to do it right"

"I don't hanker to disruptions"
"In the town ... I rule"
"The laws all must be followed"
"Now, boys...it's time for school"

"We're gonna have a meeting"
"You can follow, or can go"
"I'm gonna clean this town up"
"I just thought you both should know"

He'd printed off some flyers
Had them passed out by the men
It was scheduled for the Baptist Church
It was due to start at ten

He cleaned up and got ready
A good impression he would give
Because this man's demeanor
Chose who'd die and who would live

At nine fifteen he left and went
To the church, to say a prayer
He thought it would be empty
But found half the town was there

We waited till the church bells
Chimed ten times ...and he began
"I'm here to be your Sheriff"
"I'll do the best job that I can"

"I don't like injustice"
"Wrong doers...they must pay"
"I like to keep things, well..in house"
"I make decisions in  a day"

"I'm like a judge and jury"
"I hold my own cowboy kind of court"
"I'm like Roy Bean, I guess you'd say"
"It's my town...It is my fort"

"Gunfights, just won't happen"
"If they do, both men are dead"
"One, because he lost it...."
"The other, cause I said"

"Drinking...keep it local"
"Stay inside at the saloon"
"Don't wander the streets at night"
"Standing, howling at the moon"

"You can wear your guns in town"
"But, I don't want to see them out"
"If I do, then you can bet"
"You'll learn fast, what my court is all about"

"Now, coming in, two miles out"
"I saw a sturdy tree"
"The only one who hangs from it"
"Will be decided on....by me"

"Lynchings...not on my watch"
"Rustling....don't you try"
"The rules all must be followed"
"If not....you'll surely die"

"I have a length of rope with me"
"It's been stretched 'bout twenty times"
"Add one more...it's twenty one"
"So, don't commit no crimes"

"I also have two friends right here"
"Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson"
"Don't make them come on out to play"
"If they do , you'll learn your lesson"

"Back at the jail, there is one more"
"A right old sturdy gun"
"If Smith and Wesson do not work"
"Then you'll meet...Remington"

"I hope that you will follow"
"The rules that I lay down"
"Cactus Mill is pretty"
"I like this little town"

"I might be the new Sheriff"
"And I want to be your friend"
"The choice is which one do you want"
"A long life...or early end?"

He shook the preachers hand then
And he walked on out the door
The towns folk sat in silence
You could hear a feather hit the floor

Now, the question....Did this Sheriff
Clean up little Cactus Mill?
Did Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson
Keep his hide out of Boot Hill?

She, a cavernous champagne glass,
he, a weary pony, who ate the neighbor's grass--
her name Ms. Wesson,
his name Mr. Smith,
they died on a slow Tuesday--
and stop looking Wesson clan,
if looking for a lesson.

Mid-afternoon
midst a love bent 69
Mr. Smith and Ms. Wesson
committed ******-suicide--
Mr. Smith turned from a man
back into a stain,
Ms. Wesson turned from a woman
back into a chain.

And the artist-in-neighborhood did rejoice,
subject matter for a painting to hang above
his licorice-colored memorial of a prisoner dove.

And the police did gossip,
was it love? was it *******?
What a fine piece of *** that could be living.

And it took the families two weeks to find out,
they wiped their feet on dead leaves,
daydreamt open caskets and planted juniper seeds.

Talk of another woman, talk of another man,
but God himself would tell you,
they were simply bored of each other's drugs,
they were simply bored of each other's barrels,
so, they barred each other from being,
and headed west on erosion's dime.

Not the lone glory of an orange
basking in Depression’s dusk—
its fluted bowl of purple glass

Nor the fall ways of amber
Leaves burned by roadside
curling smoke’s sun-lit sash

Not tree-lined streets
rabid leaves’ raspy voices
whirling giddy in the wind—

...in none of these

But in the moments I filled with fixing
a lamp shade
painting this place
to a stern perfection

...I thought of you
ordering the tyranny of me
the glass of me
the concrete conscience
I must be right!  Mustn’t I?

The religion of our lives
Driving through Sundays with Polkas blaring
feeding the ducks
and a roast at noon
Waffles and TV later
Lassie and You Asked For It
Wiping my mouth on a Sunday sleeve

I asked for it, alright

He came and went
to the smell of Ice Blue Aqua Velva

He came and went larger than life and first on the scene
to hurricanes, fires, muggings, and races
and of course—THE SHOP!
in an amazing array of uniforms and vehicles
Ambulances, wreckers, pickups, and police cars

He was terrifying! Wonderful!

We would love at a pained distance

His cabinet in the cellar was always locked
But now, just suppose—

if a kid were to haul on its handles...
supposedly—the sheet metal would heave and roar
with the thunder of him!

And those late nights
those harsh ****** lights
lidded hundred watt cones
in the spotlight of THERE
where I wasn’t
in the odor of oils too noxious to dare
beyond the girlish shadows—

he cleaned his guns

I waited and watched where everything seemed
to be
What...?
It seems—he just pushed her against a wall!
I step from girlhood
with my two-cents worth
and it seems I will not be Queen for a Day!

I take my vows!
I swear I will not scrape wax
from the corner of the kitchen floor with a knife!

I have waited.  I have watched
the routines of his mornings
He’s brushing his teeth; he’s combing his hair
he’s tying his shoes while he chats with the cat
I can tell you the creak of the stairs
and the sound of his footsteps rounding the house

...the routine of his return at supper
the routine of anger
My routine of being late—
and as good as dead
squeezing behind—
HIS CHAIR
Praying he wouldn’t notice the mud
Praying for the epiphany of his good mood
when the TV and me--

wouldn’t be blamed for the downfall of the nation

Infidelity Is Fatal
A short story
With a twist
By
Jude Kyrie

Henry knew she was cheating on him.
No specific proof but he got that bitter feeling in his gut,
you know the kind that's always right.
Little things bothered him.
Like Meg not getting home until 6:45 when she finished work at 5 pm.
What was happening with the missing hour
that she should have been home.
Probably ******* some lover somewhere.
She always said oh I called in at the Mall
or ran into Betty her best friend
and stopped at Louie's Bar
for a glass of chablis.

The other thing was the phone calls.
She would put the phone down as soon as he came in the room.
Redial gave no answer at all but that was just a signal
he had read about lovers morse code
Let it ring three times to answer
or wait for the second and third call.
Yes for sure she was ******* someone.

No wonder Meg was stunning at thirty-five
her figure was great she spoke softly and was kind.
The first to offer her help to any worthy cause.
Decorated the church at Christmas and Easter.
She was a beautiful woman.
And some ***** was trying to take her away from him.

The final straw was the trip to LA she said she had to go there
for a meeting but LA was not in her territory.
Henry forbade her to go
but she got angry for the first time in twelve years of marriage
and told him to mind his own ******* business.
Jesus, she never swore.
For sure her lover would be with her
making a patsy of Henry with
Meg moaning ******* in the hotel bed

Then the doozy
he found the gold cufflinks with a small diamond in.|
He knew they were not for him
he never wore cufflinks in his life except on his wedding day.
He did not even own a shirt with a folded french cuff.
Yep, it was a gift for lover boy.

The phone rang it was seven o'clock it was Meg.
Hi Honey, I am going to be really late
I was at the mall and met the Bryants
we are going for a drink want to join us.

He had herNo I am meeting up with David
Evans for a poker game I will be late too he lied.
He knew for certain she was with lover boy at some ****** hotel
He probably had her down to her Bra and ******* right now.
The rage screamed in henry's chest.

The phone rang again
It was actually David Evans his best buddy.
He told him the full story about Meg
and her lover leaving out no detail
David felt he was losing it
Look, Henry.
Megs loves you she's as straight as an arrow,
You are just worrying about nothing.
Meg would never ever cheat on you buddy.
Then he told him about the cuff links
They were hidden in her ***** draw.
He had found them in his search for evidence.
He said silly they are probably a Christmas present for you.
No way, said Henry.
No way. I don't use Cufflinks.

David was worried Henry sounded like he had lost the plot
Look, Henry, I am coming over let's set up a game of pool
Get your good scotch out Buddy.

Henry put the receiver in its cradle|>
Then he went to the desk in his Den
in the locked drawer he pulled out a smith and wesson.45
And slid in in his belt.
It took him three hotels to find her
Her BMW that he bought her
was parked in the back of the carpark
Meg was in it as was a man was in the passenger seat.
He crept closer it Sam Bryant
Megs best friends husband

He was a homely fat **** with a big gut.
What the **** could she see in that loser?

He must have a **** like a ******* horse thought Henry.
But he tapped on the window with his gun
Meg saw him a shocked look on her face Henry what are you doing?.
Don't pretend you don't know you cheating ***** he yelled.
Put the gun down Henry for god's sake.
They ran away to the hotel bar and henry followed them in
He caught up to them and pulled his gun out pointing it a Sam's head
What the **** do you cheat on me with this fat ***** for?
I had a dog that was not as ugly as him
and I shaved its ***
and made it walk backward cried, Henry.
What do you mean said, Meg?
You think Sam and Me are having an affair, Henry?
She almost laughed.
But she was cool really cool.
It"s obvious, the ******* cufflinks.|
They are for you at Christmas.
you been in my drawers again Henry?

Well, Sam, you get ready to pay for your sins he said.
he lifted the gun into sam's face.
A woman screamed from the door
Henry, please don't hurt my husband, we got kids.
It was Betty sams wife.

I told you we were going for drinks henry said Meg
Put the gun down.
I even asked you to join us remember?

The door opened again two policemen with revolvers drawn
pointing at henry one shouted drop the weapon NOW!
Henry turned to face them
his gun pointed in their direction.
Then six shots from the police revolvers
blasted Henry into eternity.
He lay dead upon the floor.
mEg knelt by his body weeping.

The funeral went by quietly
only a few people attended.
Henry was regarded a bad news in this town.

It turned out the gun in Henry's hand
could not have fired anyway.
The firing pin was removed

A month later

The gossip column in the local rag had a story

Meg Williams and David Evans
Are pleased to announce their marriage
At the St Jude’s Church of Salvation.
Ms.Williams is an investment adviser
and widow of Henry Williams.
The wedding is on Saturday the 9th of February
The couple will be honeymooning in LA
Where the bride said they shared
their first romantic moments together

The only hole in Meg's story was fixed later.
She placed the shirt with french cuffs in her closet.
Wrapped in pretty Christmas paper with a note.
To Henry with all my love.
Meg

It was not needed
But God knows who Henry had blabbed
the cuff links story too.
Better to be safe than sorry
Smiled Meg
As she dropped the firing pin
of a Smith and Wesson .45 revolver
Into the drain twenty miles from her home.

The End

I've been around for centuries.
And will continue on.
I don't control my action.
I don't control my operator mood.

I just get accused.
When I lay a person down.

I didn't purchase myself.
A human purchase me.
I didn't load myself.
A person fulfilled that need.

I've been carried by the law enforcer legally for years.
And by the criminal influence a little longer.
When you have me in your hands.
You're the one in control.

Smith and Wesson some call me.
Other names seems to vary.
I'm protected by the second amendment.

And have the power to make a robber or burglar flee.
Yes, I am a gun.
Design to protect.
Design for show.

Create no problems.
And I lightly I won't be seen.

Except there's always one source that needs to meet me.

Dearest Reader,


My name is Margot Dylan, and I'm a pariah.

On the 16th of April, I told my mother that I was gay. She threw the clay mug that I made for her before she found out I was gay, against the floral, peeling wallpaper mess of a wall, in our kitchen. The decaffeinated peppermint green tea left a wonderful aroma that almost cleansed the room of the stench of 'lesbian'.

I met Dylan Dunham a few days after that, and, a few days later, she was the first girl that I ever loved.

Dylan wore a red flannel jacket, and was a butch and sometimes a *****-but I loved her even at her tomboy cruelest.

Dylan smoked a cigarette that smelled like lonerism, and she looked at me like she didn't care. My heart skipped a beat, as cliche as it sounds, whenever she would remove the cigarette from her mouth, exhale, and look at me as smoke traveled up her face. I looked at her and knew that she was everything that I wasn't, and everything that I wanted.

Dylan was Dianne, before and after school. Dylan was Dianne, who wore floral dresses and lipstick and who ditched her butch clothing in her locker before leaving. Dylan was Dianne, who was straight and who thought Tyler Wesson, from church, was cute. Dylan was Dianne, who had a short hair cut because of track and field, because she explained that she ran a faster time with less hair. Dylan was Dianne, who didn't associate with me before or after school because her parents knew that I was gay.

During school hours, the only thing Dylan did keep from Dianne was the lipstick. I was envious of the cigarette because of it's burgundy stains. We would stand in a stall, as she looked across from me, after each drag. She frequently offered her cigarettes, but I refused because I only let love **** me. If she ever brought alcohol, sometimes she'd kiss me. I told her that I loved her and she said, "I know."

The only thing that Dylan kept from me was my heart, before she started to smoke cigarettes in the bathroom with Annie Way.


I wish you the best moments so they can overcome the worst,

Margot Dylan

Scrapers will no longer scrape.
Fighters soon to lose the short fight.
Pilots are forced to surrender control.
Snakes on a plane will bank into a roll,
a scene that really no longer is scenic.
Leaders still read while getting a scare.
Huge landmarks that I swear were once there,
bridges in shortage are counting the tolls.
Dust that eventually will never be settled,
liquid support that used to be metal,
big bad crude that never was good—
things impossible suddenly could.
Answers quickly try to be drummed.
Future conflicts guaranteed to be won,
particles blocking our UV death sun,
days become decades and turkey is done.
Brave individuals are no longer bold.
Families’ histories are quite often told,
a baby’s bottle empty with no one to hold.
Government figures tilted but somehow sold
parades in protest with a circus in town.
A tiger got out, but why can’t he growl?
Seems that the cat’s got somebody’s tongue.
Another channel covers son after son,
numbers mounting, but not the right ones.
Cabbies still nose their thumb after thumb,
training centers destroyed one after one.
We should’ve just played “Drop the **** bomb!”
Fear is good, and of course good is feared;
it’s the only thing that drives us way over here.
Just like the Bible, it’s mostly made up.
The supersonic jet has just hit a rut.
The dirtiest of bombs versus our Smith and Wesson.
“Come on gang, why would you even question?”
Like death and taxes—there’s none that’s more sure,
but then there’s the free upcoming history lesson.
“Ain’t gonna do it” acting just like his pop.
This rancher really means it when tossing the slop.
“Still can’t find him—he’s with boys in Brazil.”
What’ve they done lately to lighten the till?
It’s time for the Allies to storm up this hill.

What's up, Chicken Little? Whatchu think you know?
The sky is fallin', Skittles droppin’ out the rainbow.
Don’t hate me cuz I’m fast. Don’t hate me cuz I’m keen.
Hate me cuz I got more tiger’s blood than Charlie Sheen.

My rappin’ is a skill, wait, matter fact a habit.
This rhyme is so rare I threw a Masterball at it.
Ima get you to the point when you done think you had it
then keep on chuggin’ through like the Energizer Rabbit.

Runnin’ this game since I was born in 1990.
Ball so hard like Waldo everybody wants to find me.
Watch me as I fly free, practicing my Tai Chi,
soarin’ through the sky like Ben Franklin with his kite key.

I slay wicked verses like they fire breathin’ dragons.
Always down for an adventure so they call me Bilbo Baggins.
You got your feet draggin’ from all your pithy laggin’.
Chokin’ on my farts, left you in my dust gaggin’.

My girls be elegant while yours be nothing but ******.
No diamonds in my ears cuz I don’t like to be flashy.
You just can’t get past me, kilo in the backseat.
NOS tank in the front so them piggies can’t get at me.

Lyrics like the plague so they call my **** Bubonic.
Sittin’ at the bar gettin’ drunk on gin and tonic.
Blowin’ on that chronic, so fast they call me Sonic.
Watch me transform as I go Megatronic.

Is my **** too fast? You need to stop and smell the flowers?
I am just a human, I ain't got no special powers.
I could go for hours. The rap game I devour.
Like Frodo with the ring takin’ down the Two Towers.

My rhymes are heavy duty while yours be made of plastic.
Better call the Doctor cuz this **** is getting’ drastic.
Snap back like elastic, I made an instant classic.
Light the roof on fire with a flick of my matchstick.

I’m tellin’ all them haters that I’m wicked sick nasty.
Dissin’ all they want to but they too scared to come at me.
I go where the cash be, rappin’ makes me happy.
Don’t wash my hair for days cuz I like that **** *****.

All I really wanna do is have a rap battle
cuz my rhymes are so disgusting they’ll make your head rattle.
You’re in a boat with no paddle, on a horse with no saddle.
It’s lookin like you’re gonna hafta ******* straddle.

I know I have the sickest flow that you have ever felt.
There’s nothin’ you can do it’s just the hand that I was dealt.
Killa Kraig will make you melt, yes it matters how it’s spelt.
Get it right the first time or I’ll leave you with a ******' welt.

My game will give you chills from your head down to your feet.
Sittin’ on the couch cuz I love to chill with Pete.
I’m the man to beat cuz I bring all the heat.
Grew up in the burbs, didn’t grow up on the street.

They gave me a gold medal when I scored a perfect 10
cuz I got the versatility of an erasable pen.
Singin’ like a ren, no need to pretend.
Murkin’ rhymes like zombies like my Asian friend Glenn.

Honesty’s a virtue so you know I never front it.
Always swingin’ for a homer, ain’t no need to ever bunt it.
Now you really done it, watch me as I run it.
I made it to the center of the Tootsie Pop in one lick.

Crusin’ round town in my green 6-4 Impala.
Drop so many bombs that you think I worship Allah.
Dolla’ after dolla’, cute as a koala,
but ruthless as a renegade Viking in Valhalla.

My lyrics kick you in the nuts now you talkin’ like a munchkin.
Drop you to the floor like some Mohammed Ali punchin’.
Where is Conjunction Junction? Do the number crunchin’.
Get you home by midnight so you don’t turn into a pumpkin.

Stickin’ to the game like some universal duct tape.
Give you three tries while I nail it in one take.
I'm the sugar on the cornflake, the reason for an earthquake.
I'll toss you like a salad or a chicken in some Shake n’ Bake.

Now grab a pen a paper cuz here’s the final lesson.
I know who’s on first so now tell me what’s on second.
I did the number checkin’, I’m the best I reckon.
While you standin’ at the wrong end of my ******’ Smith & Wesson.

it was suggested
that there be no nexus
between texas and your pal-
omino - tagging the alamo, **?

en el barrio, yo(u)-
and your gringa  homecoming
queen in tight-assed jeans
-running with ms-13?

-playing twister with your hipster
sisters misters smith & wesson
oiled up and and ready to go
- new mexico?

i found you in tres piedras
at a place called ortega's
eating huevos rancheros
- shooting jose cuervo?

-muthafucka mara salvatruchas
in a red camaro and two bruthas
on a burro with bow and arrows
-stole your palomino?

-they shoot horses
don't they?

riding the black el camino
-on the blue mesa.

r ~ 9/30/14

Dear America,

I was built on a loose foundation
A table with three legs
to sustain the load of a table with four.
To make nothing from something but
For something to come from nothing you need some thing.
The most terrible thing to waste
The superlative of Man’s tools
What makes us as individuals unique,
On the contrary defines us as a social order
The mind, The M.I.N.D.
My Intelligence Nurtures Divergence
Always accepting of the opposition,
A bloodthirsty cheetah digging its fangs deep into the flesh of a wildebeest,
my mind feeds off of their ideals,
Further amplifying my intellectual power.
Expansion within the human intellect,
builds on experiences of failures and success
Be afraid of failure, but unafraid to learn from defeat
The world is a frigid place,
and even colder when you squander your most valuable weapon.  “A weapon?
What beats an M16, double barrel shotgun,
9mm, Smith and Wesson, or Desert Eagle.”
Young blood, the divine power is in your head
Gandhi, Malcolm X, Socrates
Gone too soon due to minds considered Weapons of Mass Destruction,
Weapons of Mass Enlightenment to others
Since 1992 I’ve embarked on a journey
A journey to educate myself
A journey to realize the man I want to be
A journey to reach my full potential
Universally familiar words of my grandmother
“You can do whatever you put your mind too”
The future poses as an unknown force,
But within me fear is absent as my MIND is fully equipped for the ongoing battle of life.
I was built on a loose foundation
Tupac Shakur, John D Rockefeller, Oprah Winfrey, Chris Gardner, Christopher Wallace, Richard Branson, Steve Jobs, Walt Disney, Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, Henry Ford, Bill Gates.
Expected to come from nothing to something
but had that one thing to become something
Utilize your strengths and bury your weaknesses
For with a strong mind the word weak is without purpose

We're loaded like a six shooter
Six ***** to the hammer
and we empty again
We've been playing Russian roulette
and now it's your turn
to put us up to your head
And like a song about
how life is like a song
I'll keep this to the point
it won't go on for too long
The chamber revolves
the chorus is the click
We're both in a better place
once the breakdown finally hits