MARKED MAN BLUES
The channel went right down to
the coast, and all the boats went
flying. Garage doors were peeling,
because no one cared about paint
in all this salt air. The three men sat
at the bar in Wofford's, in a small
place called Mir. A sandy soil town,
village really, that time forgot on the
edge of the pines. The first one seemed
unsettled, grumbling about something
he'd just read. The second guy, near
him, tried agreeing. But the third guy,
drunk as a coot, was misunderstanding
everything and hollering back. Maybe
the word 'belligerent' was made for this
spot but I'm not using it here. I'm trying
to draw a picture, and it doesn't seem to
fit, that word. But, he was - mad at his
own misunderstanding. 'I didn't say the
Sheriff was coming to catch you, you
drunk fool. The man in the article had
said the Sheriff was coming to Ketchum,
and I was just plum reading the notes.
Now you shut it down and listen.'
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