Townhouse in a Country Town

[good4somethingbum]

Town House in a Country TownSitting on my front step with a frosty cold cervesaAnd a red moon resting low on a distant mesaI think of this house and how the Lord blessed me to build itWith hope for a hammer and a daydream for a drill bitPrego jars of fireflies have been my brightest porchlightPeople here near the border speak honestly and forthrightWhere the wind don’t breathe a word of Fall until Novemberand coyote calls and whippoorwills soothe my cowboy temperit’s a townhouse in a country townmy well hit water forty feet downtwo front teeth gone from my living room bear rugcos they’re like knives for slicing up a buckin a townhouse in a country townwell, I know that new backhoe my farming neighbor owns isjust for upkeep and not just to keep up with the Jones’just last June the local sawbones fixed my old mare’s coliche took two hens rather than two week’s pay from my walletit’s a townhouse in a country townhorseshoe stakes outside in the groundtwo pickets gone from the fence around the sidegave my hound a proper hole when he diednear a townhouse in a country townI’ve seen many lonely rivers and majestic mountainsLose their charm and scenery to lawyers and accountantsSo if I see just one Pizza Hut or House of PancakesI swear that I’ll sell my home with a tear and a handshakeCos it’s a townhouse in a country towna townhouse in a country town©2007 Robert George