Western
︎︎︎ T. Garrison O'Donnell
︎ Oct 8, 2026
A man in a fancy khaki jacket
& tall black boots with white & orange laces
Was being drag’d thru the street, attached
To a horse-drawn carriage by his britches
With a rope. The driver started making laps
In the town square; people watch’d without awe
From doorways & the gamblers kept their craps
Game going, this was something they saw
Daily. A buck-tooth weirdo pluck’d his banjo
& the moppets stamp’d their feet & grunted
A beat to back it like the score of a show
On the tube. No one cared or lamented
The violence & who knows what he’d done
But the blood from his head glitter’d in the sun.
& tall black boots with white & orange laces
Was being drag’d thru the street, attached
To a horse-drawn carriage by his britches
With a rope. The driver started making laps
In the town square; people watch’d without awe
From doorways & the gamblers kept their craps
Game going, this was something they saw
Daily. A buck-tooth weirdo pluck’d his banjo
& the moppets stamp’d their feet & grunted
A beat to back it like the score of a show
On the tube. No one cared or lamented
The violence & who knows what he’d done
But the blood from his head glitter’d in the sun.
T. Garrison O'Donnell is a poet from Virginia now living in the Panhandle of Florida.
Also by T.: When I make myself interesting again