Hill People

The men whose grandfathers gave their hands
The skill to take lives

Rough men
Missourians

Sitting in the moonlight with a Texas Ranger
Watching heads
Moving through a rippling banner of moonlight
On the Rio Grande
Then sinking them with 30/30's

Always the gentleman
After Uncle Reese cut the black man’s throat
He moved his butcher wagon up a few yards
So the women wouldn't be offended
By the flies lapping the dead man's blood

This is my inheritance