Guest Poet: Hurricane Isaac -- Cowboy Coffee

Most of the water came from the sink
A mockery of the apron to the jeans and T-shirt
It was sworn to protect
The shoes: dull leather spreading
From toe to-- he(a)el

Stand down

Roll a cigarette and lean
Against the door post

Soups on
An herbal mash of leaves and twigs
From whatever trees were up the street
Twelve or so blocks down

Will the water leave welts
Or red in the shape of the hand of a palm
And though it’s only slightly less wet inside
The velocity in which its propelled
Is significantly divergent

Ok, maybe you can stop the world
From going about its business
And watch the faces through the windows
Recall from memory how they used to smile
Used to frown
Used to tremble lips with nostrils flared

And eyebrows furrowed bridged and closed
With eyes that never missed
The opportunity to surprise

Not like now how they leveled forward
In a trance
Never moving
From their stalking glance

Never minding
What they saw

Never closing
Never flawed

It’s just business, after all
And you can’t stop business
From going about the world

And passing promissory notes
For broken promises

Shoot from the hip, cowboy

Sit around the fire
There are cowboy things to talk about
And these are cowboy times
And there is plenty
Of cowboy coffee