FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection

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Book Title

Composer

Call #

Pages

Author

Poem Title

First Lines

Keywords

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Angelina, My Noni's Name, Means Messenger

All the flesh I saw was the beggar's palm circled by sunlight.

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Tsankawi

We walk where the Anasazi danced on the tablerock above their cropland, a baby rattler, licorice-tongued, sunning

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

On my brithday, the serpent

disturbed from his moist coiled sleep in the cool humus benerth the horse trough triveted an inch off the ground by mildewed boards

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

How the beluga spoons

For a whispered secret or to steal a kiss, I lean out over her tank, like a longship's figurehead, far as a man in love dare reach without altogether letting go.

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

To Gerald Fuentes: May heaven swoon for him her handsomest storybook bevy

On a planet we've poxed with the beauty of ourselves, it's a walk through the toxic park picking from front page news alone our recommended daily dose of heartbreak.

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Montana second hand

Down's syndrome can't hinder the Saint Vincent de Paul thrift store troubadour of the shoe department, John Jasmann, singing

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Imperfect Strangers

Friday night at the Club Cigar, smoke filled box of ruckus

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

The hand

In South Africa, a white aristocrat grabs the hand of an elderly black man sitting in the dirt on the edge of a lush crop.

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Pathetic Fallacy

They have put to death the most elderly male grizzly bear ever trapped in Montana.

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Wolf tracks on the welcome mat

Long after dark, the big bad black wolf, winded, knocks his softest dewclawed knock on my straw door.

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Antipasto!

The tongue loves Antipasto! The linguini way each button-mushroom syllable-gold nubbin plucked from hardwood stump

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Bringing home the poems

Born into a Polish-Italian immigrant clan of hunter-gatherers, garlic and tomato tenders, wood-burners, preserve putter-uppers

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Potatoes

Unless they've been cladestinely launched whole into orbit as a satellite welcome wagon gunnysack toward alien good will,

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Running on empty

Say you are out there somewhere between Ingomar and Enid, Kaycee and Meeteetse, some big Montana-Wyoming open, the red needle

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Pheromones

Maybe it's the scent of the Montana Ranch brand tender beef in natural juices

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Bizaryski: Mad bard and carpenter savant of Manchester, Montana: feeds the finicky birds

Unlikely that my poems will ever land in some Norton Anthology of Ornithology, let alone the Guinness Bird Book of World Bon Appetit Records

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

The tumbleweed munchies

After my nemesis, the stiff wind , howls, under cover of darkness, Charge!

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Cowboys & Indians

When my father does not ride in on time for supper; I track him down, find him wounded, fevered, slumped on his big hairy Ernest Borgnine

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Cedarville Sweet

Cautious not to buck the cowboy code, we salivate for weeks before unsealing the gift we vowed to save

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Great harvest bread, rock-n-roll-God

Peace and love on a child's wintry earth was siply a line of the Lord's Prayer come real: a three-inch-thick heel of peasant bread steaming beneath white see-through butter

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

Paul Zarzyski

Sister Sundays

On the same moring I stoned to death and drove over the prairie rattler relaxed and sunning

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

100

Paul Zarzyski

Gardens

What kind of flowers are these children, so familiar to me in polka dot bonnets, in colorful frocks and shoes black as taproots

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

102

Paul Zarzyski

I thought that hope was home

If hope is home, then poetry's home is made most hopefuly by the root hair fingers of an oak

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

104

Paul Zarzyski

Words growing wild in the woods

A boy thrilled with his first horse, I climbed aboard my father hunkering in hip boots below the graveled road berm, Cominski Crick funneling to a rusty culvert.

Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat

FC 11 Z-03

109

Paul Zarzyski

Grace

In the soft low light up high where love has always thrived and will forever