Everything is man and fighting and chili powder
up a bloodhound's nose and a church key necked
like a rosary. Sometimes a laugh feels like a prayer
that I never want to hear you say again, Mountain.
But then there's only the blatant beautiful girl
in car-washing suds, there's only the dying mother.
And then there's only her and all those shotguns
and that's when your smart-ass-mouth breaks my heart.