Even the Snakes and the Bloody Moon

sweet pungent odor fermented hay dark and warm slithers of light spit through the cracks of the warped weathered wood old pie tin lies in the dirt in its corner where the mean old bull snake drank milk with the cats and kept the rats and rattlers at bay there's a buzzing and a hissing on the other side of this rickety door inside this old abandoned barn I decided to explore I'm about to shove through but before I do I look down to see an Arizona black coiled up its cold eyes drawing a bead whoa there little fella didn't see you used to be I'd blow your head off tan your hide and roll you up to toss in a cigar box with the others now--I don't know why you seem like such a harmless guy you didn't strike well then won't I and I like the light reflected off your shiny scales and the way you glide so smoothly and methodically over rough wood nothing anyway through that door just old leather bridals and reins broken down boots and rusty tools outside light blinds squinting to see corroded red tank shot full of holes every idiot with a gun can't resist putting in another one and the dusty chaparral stretches up to the cool pines as far as this trail goes I follow just a not quite snake bit Arizona boomer kick'n around couple of days after that bloody November moon (I set my alarm to) yeah whatever it means sometimes its better just to keep moving with the sweet sun on your shoulder no rush whatever I'm looking for it's gonna find me even the snakes and the bloody moon