Laredo by John Doyle

Hell underwhelms those in love
with fire, brimstone, 

five-cent trash-can attorneys, 
those stealing patents from hometown inventors,

rubbing nickels on dreams made from twine.
A child in the Badlands struck oil 

chasing rabbits to the point 
where the river choked in mud, 

Satan nearly crushed in the tongue-dry cracks 
upstream.

We spent an hour at Martinez's grave,
smoked cigars, struck flint on stone. 

I was disappointed when the drag queens turned out to be women, 
I asked Satan to give my money back -

he was polite,
didn’t leave me a penny short

 John Doyle became a Mod again in the summer of 2017 to fight off his impending mid-life crisis; whether this has been a success remains to be seen. He has has two collections published to date, A Stirring at Dusk in 2017, and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018, both on PSKI's Porch.

He is based in Maynooth, County Kildare, Ireland. All he asks is that you leave your guns at the door and tie up your horses before your enter.