There must be something good

faraway from heeeeeeere....
i've got my leather
sheepskins on my back. vines
twining in my satchel--woven from last
year's reeds and bluefinger.
i'll find three or four signs of them today
i swear they can never excape
my hopeless vengeance
against your new husband
even though you never knew i
loved him again after all these
seasons, hunts, prarie fires, stampedes
and wars. and when i kill
him for taking you away, my
dear, they will flay me but
good--and you will still stay.
so my futile search is already over
you see. you see.


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