Wandering Poems

Contents:

Golden Gate – https://azrockdodger.com/2025/08/20/golden-gate/

Havre ‘Neath the Streets- https://azrockdodger.com/2025/08/29/havre-neath-the-streets/

Every Song on the Jukebox- https://azrockdodger.com/2025/07/27/every-song-on-the-jukebox/

-Bottom Land- https://azrockdodger.com/2025/06/25/bottom-land/

-Red Chevrolet– https://azrockdodger.com/2025/03/08/red-chevrolet/

-Kilowatt- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/11/30/kilowatt/

-Bottom of My Glass– https://azrockdodger.com/2024/11/23/bottom-of-my-glass/

-Old Truck Waltz- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/08/31/old-truck-waltz/

-Cumbres and Toltec- (Railway poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2024/08/17/cumbres-and-toltec/

-A Walk in the Park- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/07/27/a-walk-in-the-park/

-The Winner- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/05/04/the-winner/

Ride the High Lonesome– https://azrockdodger.com/2024/04/20/ride-the-high-lonesome/

-Retina- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/04/13/retina/

-A Bird Softly Soars- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/04/07/a-bird-softly-soars/

-Tomorrow at Breakfast- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/03/30/tomorrow-at-breakfast/

-Southwind- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/03/31/southwind/

-River Rat- https://azrockdodger.com/river-rat/

-Cabin Fever- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/02/10/cabin-fever/

-The Lass in the Glass- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/01/16/the-lass-in-the-glass/

-Mule Pass- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/12/11/mule-pass/

-Gene Vincent Show- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/12/09/gene-vincent-show/

-Urban Coyote- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/12/01/urban-coyote/

-Route 1, Box 36- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/10/14/route-1-box-36/

-Coffee and a Kiss- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/10/07/coffee-and-a-kiss/

-Ensenada- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/08/19/ensenada/

-With Jesus, Bud and Blue- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/08/13/with-jesus-bud-and-blue/

-Heatwave- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/07/24/heatwave/

-Wisdom from a Barstool- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/05/13/wisdom-from-a-stool/

-Unclimbed Mountains- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/04/29/unclimbed-mountains/

-Bullhook Blues- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/04/12/bullhook-blues/

-Half A Mile From Lone Pine- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/03/11/half-a-mile-from-lone-pine/

-The World Might End Tomorrow- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/02/25/the-world-might-end-tomorrow/

-Border Run- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/02/03/border-run/

-Magoo- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/01/15/magoo/

-Radio Waves- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/12/31/radio-waves/

-Library Rat- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/12/10/library-rat/

-Riverwalk- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/12/03/riverwalk/

-Sam’s Place- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/11/26/sams-place/

-Headed off to Texas- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/10/16/headed-off-to-texas/

-Pacific- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/09/25/pacific/

-Fly- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/08/19/fly/

-Highway to Lonesome- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/07/30/highway-to-lonesome/

-Sundance- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/07/17/sundance/

-Carr Peak– https://azrockdodger.com/2022/07/16/carr-peak/

-Alberta Clipper- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/05/07/alberta-clipper/

-Little Town Blues- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/04/24/little-town-blues/

-Blessed- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/04/23/blessed/

-Crosses- https://wordpress.com/post/azrockdodger.com/2664

-Teardrops in the Snow- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/02/02/teardrops-in-the-snow/

-A Village Called Kin– a poem- https://azrockdodger.com/2021/12/26/a-village-called-kin/

-Markle Man- https://azrockdodger.com/2021/11/19/markle-man/

-River Trip– https://azrockdodger.com/2021/11/14/river-trip/

-Runaway https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/17/runaway/

-Boxcar Bill https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/16/boxcar-bill/

-Hi-Line Highway https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/02/hi-line-highway/

-Captain John of the Thunderhead: https://azrockdodger.com/2021/09/30/captain-john/

-Monsoon (Poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2021/07/31/monsoon/

-Laguna https://azrockdodger.com/2021/08/22/laguna/

-La Sal Junction

-Milk River

-1962 https://azrockdodger.com/2021/09/24/1962/

-Skeeters https://wordpress.com/post/azrockdodger.com/1991

-The Clickin’ and the Clack https://azrockdodger.com/2021/07/18/the-clickin-and-the-clack/

-Black Coffee

-The Devil’s Road It Was

-Singin’ on a Post

-Across the Great Divide

-Winnemucca

-Burns Junction

-D-Y Junction

-Wrong Side of the Track

-The Comet and the UFO

-Rodeo Kid

-With Demons in the Wash

-Baja Arizona

-Mission Lounge Angel (A poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2021/08/18/angel-at-the-mission/

La Sal Junction

 

Just south of Moab Utah is a junction called La Sal,

Sittin’ ‘neath the red rocks, it’s a beautiful locale.

Sure to take your breath away each time that you pass,

Where sits a lonesome station that used to pump the gas.

Once it was a truck stop, the diesels they rolled in,

Double-clutchin’ up the grade, patience growin’ thin.

A place where every trucker knew he had to stop,

And get some fuel or service in the little shop.

Run by Vic and Irene, had everything you need,

With Dayla in the café, a’  fixin’ up y’er feed.

One time I drove up in a broken-down old car,

Next thing that I knew they had me tendin’ bar.

And Steve’ll fix yer flivver if it should malfunction,

No, you won’t get stranded, this is La Sal Junction.

Runnin’ out of hours, the log book calls for rest,

You can tie up at LaSalle, it is the very best.

A trailer with a shower, a bunk that isn’t bad,

A night away from sleepin’ in that damn old cab.

But if you go in business, pick yer partners well,

They can take yer dream and run it straight to hell.

Just a lonesome junction, somewhere in the past,

I’m gonna’ shed a tear, ‘cause it didn’t last.        

Apr 30, ‘21

Milk River

I grew up near the Milk River at Glasgow, Montana.

Barefoot boy sittin’ on the bank,

Starin’ at a bobber waitin’ fer a yank.

Beaver makes a splash, slaps his tail,

Gone outta’ sight, he left no trail.

Rope swing hangin’ from a branch,

Only the bravest take that chance.

Bare Butt Beach, no girls allowed,

 First swim across makes you proud.

White-tail deer hidden in the brush,

Take yer time, there ain’t no rush.

In the Summer the cotton flies,

Gets in yer mouth and yer eyes.

Winter freeze, break out the skates,

Beer can hockey, no goal or gates.

Winter ends, comes the thaw,

Ice breaks up, oh such awe!

Place a stake as water’s rise,

Seek higher ground if yer wise.

Skippin’ school to fight the flood,

Settin’ sandbags in the mud.

A river kid is like a wild rose,

All scratched up, bloody nose.

Don’t get much better, boy and a dog,

Milky old river, sittin’ on a log.

LDT April 22, ’21

The Milk is the little river that could. It steals much of its water from the Saint Mary’s Siphon near Glacier National Park. It uses the valley that the Missouri ran through before the last ice age. Fort Peck Lake filters the water of the “Big Muddy”, but the Milk soon befouls it.

Black Coffee

I’m  needin’ some more coffee, better make it black,

Last night I had a bender, but I ain’t lookin’ back.

The bars were all lit up, the cards were playin’ good,

Drawin’ fer an inside straight, I knew I never should.

Now I’m sick and sober, down to my last dime,

I’m thinkin’ that I might have had one hell of a time.

Sippin’ on black coffee, my head I gotta’ clear,

Wonderin’ where the hell I’m gonna’ go from here.

LDT   Apr 20, ‘21

The Devil’s Road it Was

Highway Six Sixty-Six, the Devil’s road it was,

First time that I took it was mostly just because.

Windin’ up from Clifton, Morenci mine you pass,

You can say farewell to cities, towns and gas.

As you crack the throttle, hangin’ on the bars,

Surely to be thankful there ain’t a lot of cars.

Leanin’ in the wind, the twisties never end,

Climbin’ to the top, what’s beyond the bend?

The desert will retreat, the chaparral is neat,

Feel the air get cooler, piney smell so sweet.

The gear you need is second, you ain’t goin’ very fast,

Lean into a turn, you’ll be seein’ what you passed.

Ride up to the heavens, the Devil ain’t in sight,

Knees and elbows shiftin’ , first the left and then the right.

There’s endless blue vistas for as far as you can see,

Could this be the place the Devil sets you free?

Up above the clouds, the grey wolf surely knows,

This is where you go to forget about your woes.

A meadow full of Camas, bloomin’ soft and blue,

Where the elk will bugle for his love so true.

You finally hit the spot where the Aspens quake,

This route is the best that anyone can take.

The tall pines whisper softly waftin’ in the wind,

It’s like you never strayed, like you never sinned.

If the Devil’s road should take you to Heaven’s pearly gate,

Maybe just remember, the One who wipes y’er slate.

LDT Apr 2, ‘21

Singin’ on a Post

He sits atop a post and sings his song of love,

his warble has to be, blessed from up above.

And all the prairie knows the only sign of Spring,

is when you hear the Meadowlark open up to sing.

Days are getting’ longer, grass is turnin’ green,

that little speckled bird is searchin’ for his queen.

And if she ever hears him, she’ll fall in love for sure,

he’ll proudly stand beside her, with a love that’s pure.

So next time when ye’r ridin’ out upon the open range,

A song of love is all it takes, a lonesome heart to change.

LDT Mar ‘21

Across the Great Divide

The old cowpoke he rode on up to the Great Divide,

‘Cuz he always wondered about the other side.

He gazed upon the heavens and the canyon down below,

and suddenly he asked, “Lord, which way should I go?”

At first, he got no answer, as dark clouds rolled above,

had he somehow faltered and lost his Father’s love?

Because it was his habit to drink and cuss and chew,

And never was he spotted a’ sittin’ in a pew.

Then in a bolt of fire the thunder did unfold,

he shivered in his soul and didn’t feel so bold.

“Lord, I took a windin’ path, veerin’ from the right,

pretty sure y’er thinkin’ that I’m an awful sight.

The sinnin’ that I’ve done was mostly just for fun,

But now I’m thinkin’ I’ve got my demons on the run.

Either way I’ve gotta’ say You gave me a hell of a ride,

So are Ya’ gonna take me across the Great Divide?”

LDT

Feb ‘21

                           Winnemucca

Spent some time in Winnemucca when I was just a lad,

And lately I been thinkin’ ‘bout all the fun I had.

High up in the desert, before the Humboldt sinks,

Stop on by for romance or maybe for some drinks.

It’s where the Wild Bunch robbed’ the First National,

Thirty Thousand Dollars made their job more rational.

Hide out like Claude Dallas, or gamble at the Palace,

Whether you just drove in, hopped a freight or rode the bus.

Joe Mackie owns the town, locked it up for sure,

Build some more casinos, those tourists will he lure.

Somewhere there’s a red light and an ol’ green door,

Guy sneaks up a dim lit alley leadin’ to amour.

Two Pacific Railroads are runnin’ through the town,

And someday that new Interstate will simply go around.

The U.P. is for those haughty folks on the Overland,

The W.P. is just for hoboes, a satchel in their hand.

Dapper stranger looking sharp, at the poker table sits,

Three days later he’s a mess, shaking with the fits.

Waitress name of Rita will bring up one more drink,

“No Sir, I ain’t whatever you might think.”

Comic cracks his jokes, buckaroo will grin,

 Then a drunken miner takes a swipe at him.

The battle it is taken, the tables they will fall,

Lucky that the bouncer is Paiute, proud and tall.

Barmaid runs for Sherriff, her platform seems alright,

Just sleep by day and party completely through the night.

A Basque herder climbs up on a stool, breakin’ forth in song,

The words they sound so pretty, but the language don’t belong.

Open Jeep burnin’ rubber, driver quaffs his beer,

Oh it’s probably illegal, any place but here.

Cars a’ speedin’ into town get slowed down by the cop,

There ain’t no limit on the road, but this is where to stop.

The Sun is slowly risin’, the party it ain’t done,

Come along ans join in, if you want some fun.

LDT Nov. ‘20

Burns Junction

        At a lonesome junction standin’ with my thumb,

        Just let me hitch a ride, I really ain’t no bum.

        Left the Interstate, where it’s hard to catch a ride,

        For in Highway Ninety-Five, a shorter route I spied.

        Standin’ in the dust, just waitin’ for a car

        Still a ways to go, but I’ve lately come so far.

        No, I ain’t no hero, just made the wires talk,

        Now I need a ride, it’s too damn far to walk.

        Just yesterday I passed ‘neath that Golden Gate,

        Gazin’ at the “World”, my fate to contemplate.

        Shoes are lookin’ dusty, my uniform’s a mess,

        I’m a pretty sorry Jarhead, if you even have to guess.

        Girlfriend up and married, maybe shoulda’ wrote.

        A million other G.I.s have been in that same boat.

Shoulda’ stuffed my seabag with the comely Michiko,

Girl in every port, or so the stories go.

The sun is beatin’ down, the cars ain’t comin’ by.

Never knew these parts could be so hot and dry.

I shake my head and wonder, future all a blur,

Is the path I’ve chosen really just a spur?

Orders in my pocket, thirty days to think,

Twenty-one years old, I’ve had a legal drink.

No, I ain’t broke nor runnin’ from the law,

Just headin’ home to see my Mama and my Pa.

Then it’s off to Cali to serve this noble land,

Beach bum at Laguna, sunin’ in the sand.

At a lonesome junction, standin’ with my thumb,

Got the world before me, shouldn’t be this glum.

LDT Nov. ’20

Burns Junction, Oregon is about 130 miles north of Winnemucca, Nevada.

D-Y Junction

There’s a place called D-Y Junction, a hundred miles from home,

Up above the Missouri Breaks, where the bison used to roam.

They say the Corps of Discovery passed along this way,

Draggin’ boats by the cordelle, eight miles in a day.

Trappers, traders settin’ forth, fortunes for to seek,

It wern’t no life for slackers, the timid or the meek.

Miles chasin’ Joseph, the Nez Perce made their run,

Battle of the Bear Paws, they knew that they were done.

Steamboats freightin’ cargo, at Benton they tie up,

The ranchers and the miners, fillin’ up their cup.

Still the land of Gros Ventres, Chippewa and Cree,

Add to that a motley band of people called Métis.

Then they finally found it, the Little Rockies gold,

Came the time of outlaws, their stories to unfold.

One named Harvey Curry, or Logan if you like,

Rode into Landusky and shot a man called “Pike”.

Now a wanted man, Kid Curry hit the trail,

Robbed a bank in Deadwood, ended up in jail.

Ridin’ with the Wild Bunch, he’s gonna’ make a mark,

With men like Butch and Sundance it really ain’t a lark.

Then the train at Wagner, he made his biggest score,

Forty thousand dollars, or maybe it was more.

Hidin’ out in the Breaks, or maybe at Thornhill’s,

Posse never finds him, too bad they’re unsigned bills.

Siringo comes a lookin’, that outlaw he must find,

Six months in the mountains, no trail left behind.

Then Curry’s caught in Knoxville, in an awful fight,

Thornhill gets him lawyers, though it just ain’t right.

Curry gets the max, his sentence for to serve,‘

’til he chokes the jailer, showin’ all his verve.

Hidin’ from the law, he’s mighty good at that,

Slinkin’ back to Harlem, like an old Pole Cat.

Maybe it was Colorado, where he met his fatal end,

Or he’s lurkin’ up ahead, beyond some railroad bend.

When you hit the D-Y, you’re a hundred miles from home,

Don’t you follow Curry, no matter where you roam.

LDT Nov ’20

The D-Y Junction sits at the foot of the Little Rockies Mountains, about 50 miles south of Malta, Montana.

Wrong Side of the Tracks

The Wrong Side of the Track

Grew up in a railroad town, wrong side of the track,

and tho I kinda’ miss it, I ain’t never goin’ back.

West Des Moines or Winnemucca, they’re really all the same,

what side of town you live in, sullies up your name.

My dad he was the Engineer, ‘a runnin’ that ol’ train,

that divided up our little town, ‘a sittin’ on the plain.

And Momma she would sing along, while packin’ his lunch pail,

“Keep your hand upon the throttle, and your eye upon the rail.” *

I watched that train ‘a pullin’ out and wondered where it went,

no ticket to some far off place, my money’s all been spent.

And the tallest thing I ever saw was fillin’ up with grain,

the farmers in their overalls were talkin’ crops and rain.

On a cold and dreary day, I offered up a thumb,

and by the time I got a ride my toes were gettin’ numb.

Then one by one, all my friends were doin’ just the same,

in leavin’ from a railroad town, there really is no shame.

Now nuthin’ in my life since then has ever set me back,

grew up in a railroad town, wrong side of the track.

LDT 5/20

*”Life is Like a Mountain Railroad,” Charles Tillman (music) and M.E. Abbey (lyrics). 1890.

The Comet and the UFO

The Comet and the UFO

One time I bought a Comet, blacker than the night,

And while I’m drivin’ in it, I took my greatest fright.

In the state of Utah, a Junction called La Sal,

Got a call from Chi-town, gotta’ weld the rail.

Got a job a’ waitin’ in that Colorado land,

Workin’ for Mister Muncie and his merry band.

Gotta’ load the Comet somehow stuff my bike,

In the trunk I place it, ‘fore headin’ down the Pike.“

This car is overloaded,” my Uncle shakes his head,

“better you be careful, than windin’ up all dead.”

I head out on the highway, at Cortez I turn north,

My overloaded Comet is swayin’ back and forth.

Darkness falls, the road grows deadly silent,

Six pack sits beside me, blackness out in front.

Not a car in sight as I travel through the night,

I look up at the mirror to see an awful sight.

My eyes get big as saucers, I think I’m turnin’ white.

There’s a flyin’ object in my mirror, givin’ me a fright.

Yellow oval chasin’ me, so shiny and so bright,

Never believed in UFO’s before that fateful night.

I mash that throttle through the Comet’s floor,

Hopin’ that the little Six will finally start to roar.

Alas, I cannot shake it, it’s hangin’ on my tail,

Tiny engine strivin’ hard , but it’s sure to fail.

Carvin’ up a canyon, I slide around a curve,

Lord, I think I lost it, buildin’ up my nerve.

Canyon’s full of twisties, I round another turn,

And there it is behind me, ridin’ on my stern.

The miles they’re tickin’ by, just like a turtle race,

I try to steel my nerve, the demon I must face.

A lonely hour passes, my blood is flowin’ slow,

I’m thinkin’ ‘bout my fate, there’s no place left to go.

I cannot even fathom this thing that’s chasin’ me,

Rollin’ through the night tryin’ hard to flee.

Then I spot a tiny light ‘a shinin’ up ahead,

Maybe it’s a town I say, fightin’ off the dread.

I slide into a station, spewin’ gravel to and fro,

Attendant starin’ at me as he hollers, “Whoa!”

I bolt the door to tell him about the UFO,

Then it finally hits me to my mortal woe.

That object in my mirror isn’t what I thunk,

Reflection of the moon, shinin’ off my trunk!

LDT Nov ’20

Rodeo Kid

Rodeo Kid

We loaded up the Hudson,

When I was just lad.

We three kids in the back,

Up front were Mom and Dad.

On our way to Wolf Point,

Just to watch the show.

Or maybe it was Dodson,

Old Hudson ridin’ low.

The Levis weren’t enough,

We had to wear our boots.

Take our place upon the rail,

Watchin’ cowboys in the chutes.

Billingsley would loop his calf,

In damn near record time.

And Hagen on a bull so bad,

Eight seconds seemed like nine.

But when it came the time for broncs,

Our Dad he would buck out.

He’s ridin’ like the devil

Is chasin’ him about.

Barrel racin’ brings the cowgirls fair,

Big ol’ Stetson upon their hair.

Comes the end, time for clowns,

To go fightin’ with the bull.

El’ Toro pawin’ in the dirt,

‘til it’s flyin’ by the shovel full.

We laugh, the tension broken,

The Matador will play.

And then it’s time to load the Hudson,

‘Cause tonight there’ll be no pay.

Drivin’ ninety miles an hour,

We roll down Highway Two,

And one by one we nod off,

The rodeo is through.

        LDT Oct ‘20

With Demons in the Wash

With Demons in the Wash

He lives within the wash, his demons by his side,

no one knows what drove him there, just a place to hide.

He sees an urban coyote skulking for a meal,

and wonders why they share such a lonesome deal.

His days are long and hot, the nights alone and cold.

here he makes his home, his tent he did unfold.

His sign says, “Can you help me? Anything will do”,

with luck he’ll make a buck before the day is through.

And on the busy street, the shiny cars roll by,

do they ever ponder the wherefore or the why?

LDT Feb ’20

Baja Arizona

Baja Arizona

We call it Baja Arizona, the land beneath the Gila,

Could we be so lucky someday that we’ll see ya’?

Mountains, deserts, our verdant valleys bloom,

No matter where you go, Baja has the room.

Aspens quake above the clouds, golden in the sun,

Take a hike, ride a horse, ya’ gotta have some fun.

Of course, I’m gonna tell ya’ my corner is the best,

But I really cannot fault the desert to the West.

If you want a shootout, Tombstone heeds your call,

You can even stop and visit Trumpy’s stupid Wall.

The Spanish had a Presidio, Apaches drove them out,

Even then they knew what freedom’s all about.

Where Dragoons never found the wily old Cochise,

‘til Jeffords brought in Howard to finally make the peace.

Where Mowry mined for gold and gave the Rebels lead,

While other lonesome miners just ended up quite dead.

The Chiricahua break out, their reservation gone,

Stolen by the Gringo, their vengeance it will spawn.

Where Warren bet his claim, a footrace with a horse,

If you guessed he lost it, yer surely right of course.

Where once they moiled for silver, now copper is their gold,

They dug a pit in Bisbee, it’s earthy treasures to unfold.

Meanwhile from Sonora, Geronimo will raid,

Keeping all of Baja holed up and afraid.

The Earps and the Clantons are feudin’ in the street,

Thirty seconds later, there’ll be blood beneath their feet.

A quarter of the Army is chasin’ hostiles down,

Without Apache scouts, they simply can’t be found.

High in the Sierra Madre, they find the hidden camp,

They parlay with Gatewood, their breakout he will tamp.

Then Miles takes the credit, the Apaches are exiled,

Never will they raid or roam, never more be wild.

We call it Baja Arizona, the land beneath the Gila,

Where all you ever need are nachos and tequila.

LDT Jan 1.’21