Circling the Wagons

McGuffin’s got nothin’

but to propel

this darn

campfire yarn

done spun


a deserted 

ice cream party

at the Just A-OK Corral.

Thumb and finger

circling back around.

Your release

to the great halfpipe

in the sky

consequently coincides

with the remastered

Tony Hawk Pro Skater.

Games we used to


at being adults

someday, having to grow up



it languish

for twenty-some 

odd years.


circles back around.

Hanging back, you

duck out early

as was your habit.

No need to be the center of attention:

that was Bob’s job.

Puff, puff, pass.

It’ll circle back around.


to pick it back up again

where we left off



with open arms

carrying me


to sober up

in the pokey.

The missing windows

of last night’s 

bar fight,


in my beard

stragglers no more

reflected in 

the boarded up plate glass

you escaped from.

Rowdy crowd

circling around back.


and baked,

the hardpan

blazing already

at this time of day.

Feet of clay

I didn’t think

I’d have been caught

in this time-sink

drink tank


of a calamity

I’d never prepared for,

dusting off these



dry gulch parched

and perched

a vulture


for my demise

circling back around.

Circling the Wagons first appeared in Daily Drunk Mag’s “Nostalgic AF: A Video Game Anthology”

edited by Nick Olson

You can read the rest of the poems here

Or you can support the poets by buying it here

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