Thursday, June 30, 2016

Just Under a Hundred Degrees



Just Under a Hundred Degrees

Gold-fire afternoon light....

You slow-drive,
dried blueberries 
instead of Copenhagen,
stretch an hour on a gravel road...
gape-grin dumb
across sagebrush
at not-so-distant basalt walls.

As if there ain't nothin'
you can't dream-up for real.

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Summer Time-Shroud



Summer Time-Shroud

Stetson-topped children
playing toss with cafe plates.

Deep sunlight....
A large-winged bird
casting empty cow lot shadows.

Wallet-money's gone by noon.

Friday, June 24, 2016

Brexit



Brexit

Oh... oil on choppy water.
The common shaving mirror
illuminates a dumb show:
razor-bladed lips,
swallowed gasp
(near-euphoria)
of wrenched shoulder.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Straight Ahead: Envoi



Straight Ahead: Envoi
One lesson of our West: Bat Masterson's heart
died in New York... atop his newspaperman's desk.
A swirly pillar of rising yellow hay fire smoke...
a neighbor two miles might see insurance bucks.
The raggedy bereft sing cowboy songs all night.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Straight Ahead: 38



Straight Ahead: 38

New-coat-of-paint double-wide trailers,
sweep-of-rain on a sage steppe road,
AM radio like lightning-kill steer ribs....
You're listening: songs of the border-stranded.
Blackbird dive... fear of moonless nights.

Friday, June 17, 2016

Straight Ahead: 37



Straight Ahead: 37

Promise of rain like a private joke,
but maybe by morning on sagebrush.
You try to chase a bottle of coppery beer
with an ice cream sandwich: imbecility.
Ten miles off, night's first headlights.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Straight Ahead: 36



Straight Ahead: 36

Soup-gray sundown... not a twinkle
of silver coins or a kid's starry wild rag.
Blacktop is a song for the lonesome:
midnight, no headlights, whiskey-flight.
Above the north pasture, a scream of crow.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Straight Ahead: 35



Straight Ahead: 35

As if a flea has bitten an eye... and time
is thus measured in razor-slit throats.
Blood pools on the blind side of the moon.
And the Ark never does reach dry land,
no matter the desert of any motel movie.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Straight Ahead: 34



Straight Ahead: 34

There was a play you wrote: candle-quarrel,
bloody car crash in a Nebraska town square,
a skinny naked girl... a bear claw necklace.
Shuffle along and you get barb-wire-snagged...
a mile of wind-fall cedar posts.  Lightning crackle.  


FRAGMENTS FROM HEART 'N SADDLE SALOON, A Red Shuttleworth Chapbook





Fragments 
From

Heart 'n Saddle Saloon

a Play in Free Verse

Red Shuttleworth


Heart 'n Saddle Saloon, a non-linear play in free verse by Red Shuttleworth, was first produced by the Churchill Arts Council and the Department of Theatre at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, on September 19, 1992, at the Elks Lodge in Fallon, Nevada.  It was directed by Michael Lugering with the following cast: Nicole Sottile as "Roxie," Scott Twilligear as "Oates," Toni Loppnow as "Marilena," and Josh Mussleman as "Patrick."


The cast of Heart 'n Saddle Saloon:
Scott Twilligear, Nicole Sottile,
Toni Loppnow, and Josh Mussleman.


A limited (44-copies) edition of Fragments From Heart 'n Saddle Saloon, published by Bunchgrass Press, is available by request from the author.

The touring production of Heart 'n Saddle Saloon, part of an evening of theatre entitled Bruised Love, received supporting grants from The Nevada State Council on the Arts and the Sierra Foundation.  

The play was written thanks to a Nevada State Council on the Arts 1989 Playwriting Fellowship.


The 1992 poster for Red Shuttleworth's Bruised Love
for the Churchill Arts Council in Fallon, Nevada.


Saturday, June 11, 2016

Straight Ahead: 33



Straight Ahead: 33

Morning sunshine... a mariposa lily in bloom.
Country road apologies to the recent-dead,
you fall to splintered memory: long-haired,
short-skirted girls in raspberry rodeo shirts.
Elsewhere might only be the Ephrata Safeway.

Friday, June 10, 2016

Straight Ahead: 32



Straight Ahead: 32

The polarities of age, wind-'n-rain all night,
like a knock-down small town retreat by train.
You're half awake at the apology-of-midnight,
awake when the sun Bowie-cuts a horizon slit.
Rain all night, most of it in whispers... brooding.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Straight Ahead: 31



Straight Ahead: 31

A fresh hole in the near-acres.
You count canine graves as you dig.
Upstairs in the house, a thirsty cat
in diabetic shock... your wife's tears.
Soon: rock slab against coyote paws.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Straight Ahead: 30



Straight Ahead: 30

Crowd groan-'n-stumble, it's another election.
Here the flatness of desert meets irrigation,
a neighbor's baled alfalfa... your sagebrush.
You drive north, the peak of Pinto Ridge.
Dark east horizon... lost ghost-ponies.



Monday, June 6, 2016

Straight Ahead: 29




Straight Ahead: 29


Yesterday, scrubbed with sand on a washboard,
repeats itself: sun-scorched brush, and grass.
You're in four Electric Horseman hot-wired boots,
a billy goat caught in your own dream chimney.
Sullen, flat southerly breeze: a dead drunk sings.

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Straight Ahead: 28



Straight Ahead: 28

The sun forwards itself and we're punchy
at a sagebrush 100-plus degrees circular-point...
an inch of grit... barren soil over hell-rock.
My idiot dream: a low miles second-hand silver
'76 Coupe DeVille beneath center pivot spray.

Saturday, June 4, 2016

Straight Ahead: 27



Straight Ahead: 27

The temp cracks 100 on your sage steppe.
A half-day of clearing sagebrush. You wish for
a river to swim-cool... to when Ali was Champ.
An outdoor momma cat toys with a kangaroo rat.
The sun splits open a rocky foothill, drops to earth.

Friday, June 3, 2016

Straight Ahead: 26



Straight Ahead: 26

You always groan at each curtain call,
the manic geared-up for self-applause.
Stopwatch in-fist, you round each corner
as if in a race, stumbling into strangers,
sometimes loved ones not seen before.

Thursday, June 2, 2016

Straight Ahead: 25



Straight Ahead: 25

The sun holds its tongue on the other side
of dust-tinged morning clouds: the knowing
has never been your canyon of gold nuggets.
Southbound highways, twice-steeped tea leaves,
bounce of pick-up: some luck is plowed-under.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Straight Ahead: 24



Straight Ahead: 24

Hustle-'n-grasp of youth... deck of missing cards....
The eyetooth of tomorrow's troubles might well be
the new eighty-buck kitchen chairs if they can't
support what a hanging rope can suspend.  So much
is out of reach... more than fine cupboard whiskey.