Shucked

Found out what boots are for
The afternoon
I tore up my truck.
It smoked like a Lakota Sun Dance
Against a blue May sky.

Funny how getting shucked
Like corn
And spit out on the asphalt
Will make a man
Assess his life differently.

It's a damned good thing I can't
See my back
Else I'd grow too fond
Of my vulnerability
And chase my tail like a dog.

They'll soon fix my rig
And this strangeness
Will also repair.
I'll get that clutch back
And show you how fast 'gone' is.