Private Salute

Flicked at watchings
for Antrim’s wild bunch of episodes
(what the Brady boy did) aslide
his colt his
coveting Winchester’73

blew starch, yucca sheets,
gunfighter nation many
the dead, old?

Tintypes that spark
enlightenment, undark cacique
curse ready for slain

caned Brazos with flounder;
fort flagships, a gray
formation adrift, leeward

the estuary spoke:

“Enjoin not, this rapid
ballast; Abusive
nits mad amongst
the manifest, reign!”