Hick Planet
magazine
tryna find the grownups table on a hick planet
an unperiodical:
on arts, endeavors, musings, sites, sights, & other senses
Thursday, 2020 April 30th
issue 2
Rub-A-Dub-Dub
poetry mined from the Mother Lode
by
Curtis Hagen
I dismount my tenderfoot mare, placing my hand on her neck as she lets out a soft whinny.
The kettle whistles over the cindering coals.
My warm breath pierces the cold, foggy air beside the outhouse.
I lay down my double-six-gun belt within reach,
pistols at the ready for any inopportune surprises.
Brittle, sun-baked posters don’t tell my story.
I disrobe from my five-buttoned onesie.
Perched in a squaw crouch, into the sudsy bath I go,
I slowly descend my pale, bare bum into the steaming barrel,
intoxicated by the hope of gold fever.
Bubbles gurgle to the surface with scent of mild sulfur,
after a full day’s sweat of hard work in the canyon,
resting my intoxicating discovery of the secret golden vein.
ontamontapeeya
Copyright 2020 The Cool Publication Company.