George Strait’s in this poem now, he’s meddling
with everything. He’s reading words
with the wrong inflections, making me older
than I know how to be. He wants Texas in here;
[defend yourself]. All’s trochee two-steps
and Texas Waltz dactyls. [Delete
hallucination about grandchildren.] He’s doing Jerry Lee
doing Patsy doing Hank doing Elsie, and it’s good,
but not mine. He’s snuck the word “troubadour” twice
onto the page before I give up scuffling and let it lie.
image: Andromeda Veach
