September 9, 2001

  • I rode into Dodge last night
    Road-worn, well-traveled, looking for fun,
    And trotted on down to the watering hole
    With high expectations and a whole load of soul.


    “Wait…” said the devil,
    “Can’t be Dodge—you’re in the Midwest!”
    Wait?  For such details?
    I won’t postpone my quest!


    Dismounted my horse and stumbled into the saloon,
    Seeking a table, trying to catch a buzz and a tune.
    Slumped into a chair and ordered a beer,
    Seeking some numbness in a world less aware.


    “Wait…” said the devil,
    “You drive a car—not a horse!"
    Wait?  Does it matter?
    I have come to the source!


    As the beer arrived, so, too, did the saloon gals,
    Huddling around me like so many pals.
    Sweet words were whispered  as we all did rounds,
    Toasting the possibilities of our friendship newfound.


    “Wait…” said the devil,
    “This is a bar—not a saloon!”
    Wait?  When the heart yearns?
    And with kisses so soon!


    Overwhelmed was I by the attention I got—
    More delicious with each and every shot that I bought.
    This eruption of ecstasy taunted all the dudes to no end—
    As they wondered which one was my real girlfriend.


    “Wait…” said the devil,
    “Those are bar dancers—not just saloon girls”
    Wait?  What’s the difference?
    They’re my necklace of pearls!


    But careless was I with first one, then the next,
    As jealous studs rushed to my table to position betwixt
    These gals so luscious and their attention to me—
    Hell, with all the frolic and intoxication…I was too slow to see!


    “Wait…” said the devil,
    “Those are just men—not studs!”
    Wait?  While they steal?
    The insult hit like a thud!


    After filching chairs at my table and being asked for a dance,
    These studs flashed the ten-spot that sent my gals into trance.
    I practically exploded—they were embezzling my fun—
    I paid off the tab and then reached for my gun…


    “Wait…” said the devil,
    “These girls all work for The Buck!”
    Wait?  While my heart breaks?
    I will teach them to fuck!


    But not having packed a gun now for at least 20 years,
    And not wanting to bust heads with my last good bottle of beer,
    I calmed down, swigged my brew, kissed the girls, and then lodged
    This complaint: “Before we all die, I’m getting the F out of Dodge.”


    “Wait…” said the devil,
    But she was too late.

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