Justlikethat

Writing the obit yesterday for Texas sharpshooter Joe Bowman, who could hit a playing card edgewise at 20 paces and plug a 50-cent piece three times in one five-thousandth of a second, reminded me immediately of the wonderfully idiosyncratic poem by e e cummings about one of Bowman's idols. Here's the poem (minus the weird line spacing cummings came up with):

Buffalo Bill's

defunct

who used to

ride a watersmooth-silver

stallion

and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat

Jesus

he was a handsome man

and what I want to know is

how do you like your blueeyed boy

Mister Death