Jenni in the Red Dress Wept

but not for her ungovernable father who
scarred the script of her childhood,
and not for the cruel taskmasters who
whipped her when she was weak,
not even for Death, the surefooted thief that
stole her only begotten child,
and surely not for the outlaw in the pine box who
was the only person to ever say he loved her,

definitely not for heaving blimp judge who
pronounce her guilt in gasping guffaws,
nor the plush women in bonnets who
cursed her swagger and spit in her face,
no, not even for the taunt noose
tight now around the soft front of her throat,

Jenni in the red dress wept,
but only because her Winchester ran out of
ammunition before she could kill everyone in
this goddam cursed town.

TA