changing jobs

Get up horsey said the rider
but the horsey wouldn't go
so they laid em in the rain
and they laid em in the snow

Get up horsey said the rider
but the horsey wouldn't go
so they laid em in the streets
till the traffic couldn't flow

Get up horsey said the rider
but the horsey wouldn't go
now they're the main attraction
at the Cheyenne Rodeo

Wasted

Sometimes I cry. I saw his gift as an artist. Bought his Red Painting for a pittance. Painting style uniquely his. A canvas filled with the deepest red you've ever seen. And in that red a face in a darker shade of red; Sometimes a sad face, haunted, filled with pain, sometimes an angry face filled with hate; the painting always a mirror that reflects our mood. A masterpiece in red. Yet he put art aside so he could become a salesman; not a salesman and an artist, mind you. A full time, all of his time salesman. Last I heard he was doing well as a salesman. I'm glad he's successful; yet sometimes I cry; because I know that somewhere in his soul, hidden in a dark corner, in a cell sits a great artist who also cries.

Desert Test

"This deserts gonna get us" I told my big old friend.  The Mastiff wagged its tail and we staggered off again. Canteen a long time empty; the sand a blinding glare. My soul cried out for water. As the mastiff sniffed the air. " Do you smell something? " I asked him.