'bout a buck and a half

my woman's been messing around      
on the wrong side of magic      
     
but I know better      
than to tell a woman      
which side of the art      
she's on      
especially when she won't admit      
that she picked up a pen      
     
better to walk the well known trails      
at the end of the road.    
     
This morning had me combing      
falls early beard      
the first hike in long sleeves      
     
easy to shake most bad juju      
on these strolls      

todays had me imagined      
in the back of the first pickup      
with enough room for me      
my pack      
and my pup      
     
I would drift into a bar      
with a working mans jukebox      
and tell the first sack of shit      
that sat next to me      
that my woman ends worlds      
on a whim      
uproots civilization      
and apologizes for beauty    
in universal tragedy      
before she steps foot out of bed      
     
The shmuck next to me would most certainly      
look at me like I lost my wig      
I'd get angered at the whiskey
for not listening
then return to the homestead      
where the wagon wheel has broken spokes      
but drives fire through roses      
     
I would pluck one      
wrap a hundred or so words around it      
place it in the split of her smile      
that says she loves me profoundly      
but thinks that I am far too sensitive      
   

 
She is now aware that she's holding a pen