A Steer Called Murder

by Scott Slemmons

 

I was on this little road

just off the Caprock

a little caliche road

bordered on all sides by rusty barb wire

I was here to take pictures of wildflowers

pictures to enter in contests

The road was hot & dusty & lonely

I'm out of my car

getting closeups of bluebonnets

I look up

& like magic, there is a steer

a magnificent, doom-black longhorn

just beyond the fence

ancient & wild

staring at me with dead, angry eyes

silent as the grave

On its right side

in gigantic, red, oozing letters

is a brand

M U R D E R

I take a picture

I advance my film

It disappears

& getting my ass back to Lubbock

is all that matters anymore

I remember an old Wild West ghost story

The Steer Called Murder

Whoever sees it is fated

to kill or be killed

I remember the old story

but there's that old guy on the tractor

He's going too slow

He's making me mad

He's asking for it

It's either him or me

The Steer says so

© 2000 by Scott Slemmons

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