Abecedary for Cowboys

Anna-Marie stole my shirt out of the laundry room

Because I left it hanging to dry over spring break to 

Chase cowboys. I guess I 

Didn’t care enough about it if it

Ended up in someone else’s laundry just to

Fit her even better. But I had to 

Go chase cowboys—all stretched upon 

Horseback with gruff silence and

Ick on their

Jeans from the palms of their hands. Too busy searching for those desert

Knights, but I should’ve cared more, loved more,

Listened more. I forgot the moans of 

Machine out there. That low drum, loud clanging. That

Night can be loud, or should be, with something 

Other than silence.

People are loud and they steal each other’s clothes and if you

Question her integrity she’ll say “If it

Really was her favorite, why’d

She go out west without it?” She’s right. I didn’t 

Take it with me, for I know how cowboys 

Undress you. And knowing I would let them

Violate my buttons and coat me with that

Western dirt they carry under their fingernails, and knowing I would embed myself like

Xenolith into their dusty beds, to this life that doesn’t want me with my 

Zippers done up. I came home to my shirt gone and ran an empty cycle.

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