Driving to Thom Young’s House
I heard there were no gun laws in Texas
so I rented a Taurus and drove
to Thom Young’s house,
running over prairie dogs and singing the new
Blake Shelton Christmas song.
And when I got there
I bought a rifle and some nightcrawlers
and we fished in a puddle behind the Allsup’s.
But the fish didn’t want any worms
and on the drive back
Thom said Led Zeppelin wouldn’t make it today.
And I remembered the music
and how it had lived in me once
and in my dreams
I can still hear my mother sing it like
she’s hanging over my crib.
And sometimes the college radio
comes in clear from Amarillo
and Thom finds an old box of tobacco
and we smoke like kings without a throne,
flicking ash at the coyotes circling the porch.
Once upon a time betting on
whether it would be them
but we don’t play that game as much anymore.
And on cold Sundays after Christmas
we leave burritos outside for the dogs.
Scott Laudati‘s recent work has appeared in The Bitter Oleander and The Columbia Journal. He spends most of his time with a 14 y/o schnoodle named Dolly. Visit him on social media @ScottLaudati