Wild Bill S. #115

Poem Info
123 words
4
1.7k
0
Poem does not have any tags
Share this Poem

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

mortality drifts in from the wild west
on a lazy-eyed horse with a crooked
leg. laughing, he says, it’s the best blessed
way to avoid them rattlers. he took thread,
and a jackknife, and said, these here strings is
the length you got to live. you can make ‘em
a coat, you can give ‘em to the missus,
tie up the dogs, make your pants a nice hem.
but when is all and said is done, i still
got the knife, he said, so youse might a mind.
she’s sharp and cruel and ready to duel - kill
‘ya before youse blink an eye. so behind
his back we scoffed at his miniature sword,
shielded our eyes, waited for the last word.

Please rate this poem
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
2 Comments
LeBrozLeBrozalmost 16 years ago
██

A unique Wild West flavor tinged sonnet. Sounds like a rough dude — or is it youthful boyish imaginings?

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
To that fine sonneteer:

Klotho, Lachesis, and Atropos /

Spin, measure out, and cut thread, you know /

About life, about limb, about love and soul /

That last one's by Fate named Marx, Groucho

Share this Poem