My Take
DiVoran Lites
Horse trader come down the draw
In a boil of red-powder dust.
I saw he had a stallion,
And own one that I must.
“You keep an eye on him.” the trader says.
“He’s mustang through and through,
A wild one from the range.
I’ve got a deal for you.
“You have fine boys and pups,” he said.
The trader wasn’t done.
You need to jaw around these parts.
It’s all that makes life fun.
“My little `un,” says I, “he’s four.”
Two boys are twins you see.
They won’t stay clean at all, at all
They are too much for me.
Them pups ain’t dogs, I say
They’re wolf cubs, as you see,
They’re cute right now, I calculate
But later might not be.
Old Things R New 
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