Cowpokes, Cattle Prods, and Cow Pies

Not far away lies
The scruffy tourist
Town, grubby and dry
As dust, tan and grey,
Crowded, nothing much.

There’s a wariness,
Almost a standoff
Between the tourists
And the shopkeepers.
Vehicles roll through

The single Main Street,
Like herds of cattle
Between seasonal
Pastures, muttering,
Jostling, mechanized.

The shopkeepers all
Hang signs warning them,
No Public Toilets.
Tourists can buy gas,
Food, liquor, trinkets.

They seem to suspect
The dour shopkeepers
Of greed. Shopkeepers
Don’t look like they like
The tourists too much.