< Volume II: Issue 1 >
I Won My Spurs
by Jeffrey Park
I won my spurs at the tender age of twelve
and knew right then, telling any who would
listen, that they would never leave my heels.
I gouge with my spurs horses that have no
fire in their eyes or hearts, and I spin them
to signal my impatience with the chatter of
women and children, and I drag them scraping
up the legs of rosewood chairs to show my
disdain for sophisticated tastes. And sometimes
I squat down by a guttering campfire under
a dome of lonesome stars, sink my haunches
down onto my needle-sharp spurs, and with
tears in my eyes sing a soft cowboy ballad
about how the West was really won.
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