Download Where skies are not cloudy (Texas Poets Series, No 4) by Walter McDonald PDF

By Walter McDonald

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Page 27 Falling in Love Over Dallas Acres of rouged, good-hearted girls rolled cream cones on their tongues.  Boys who rode bulls, we'd come to see blue-ribbon heifers, stallions, cattle the size of barns.  We'd never seen dancers old as our mothers, grinding plump dimpled hips. Tracks slammed us down like bulls we rode back home. We crashed daredevil cars and dived on roller coasters.  From the top, we watched their parachutes touch down.  Under our shiny, dangling boots, those fancy girls walked off and left us tethered on hooks over Dallas, begging their names, falling in love and waving, jerking the wires.

They mount, they bellow love for the world, afraid of nothing. Bring on the bulls, they say, chewing their cud and swaying.  Trucked back, turned out to pasture, they drop their bone heads down to whatever's spread before them, hunger like steel rings leading them by the nose, the slow piling up of boredom, all grass alike, made for their tongues only.  Their bodies repeat the mystery, turning grass to milk. Good mothers, they stand all summer and let calves beat their udders like punching bags, all they can drink.

Fish Granddaddy caught an trotlines weighed more than us, their oily, leather lips wide as our skulls.  Dangled, they writhed like fat pale spiders. We held them squirming and stared, then heaved them into the brown, muddy Brazos, feet set against the explosion of hunger, the appearance of things not seen. Page 22 Goats Imported from Austin Goats stumbled on shale, a rocky mesa Daddy fenced for kids imported from Austin.  Coyotes and rattlers roamed those acres until he claimed them.  Other goats popped up like penguins, searching for all he saw in the distance.

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