my grandfather rode horses for a living
across the open plains of Montana
he could field strip a rifle
or fix and engine block with baling wire
like a McGuyver cowboy
I am the grandson of pioneers
a son of a barrel racer
a nephew of bull riders
who wear cowboy hats out of necessity
but they're always removed for church
and pass the ammunition,
a pack of coyots have been harassing my herd
and after communion
we'll ride out and find them"
these men are better armed than gangsters
but it serves a purpose
they don't care where you come from
who you fuck
the hue of your skin
or your first language
"can you rope?
can you ride?
can you work?"
beyond that, most things don't matter
"in the name of
and America, amen"
this is my West
This is the official blog of Northern Arizona slam poet Christopher Fox Graham. Begun in 2002, and transferred to blogspot in 2006, FoxTheBlog has recorded more than 423,000 hits since 2009. This blog cover's Graham's poetry, the Arizona poetry slam community and offers tips for slam poets from sources around the Internet. Read CFG's full biography here. Looking for just that one poem? You know the one ... click here to find it.