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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