Rough rope. Multipurpose use. Naval shipyard bringing a ship into port, or freeing it from the dock so it can go back out again. Unfortunate suicide. Lassoing cows on a range. Desert sunset setting sweetly. Rope so thick I cannot bite through. Rope nowadays is made with synthetic fibers, which is ever harder to break I’d imagine. I don’t have much experience with rope, but I’d imagine good coiling technique would be critical. I’m thinking of BNC cables. Pulling rope could shred your hands, build callouses. Not sure what it smells like. Earthy again? I keep thinking of ships and suicides. Lovers bound. Nautical choices. Captain Eye-Patch. Italian music video. Wednesday’s temperament. Galloping heartbeat. I’m a cowgirl now. Dressed the part with hat and holster. Boots and reins. Hoses. Horses. The art of the lasso. Elephant tears shed over those who’ve passed. Those we could not help, but will beat ourselves up forever like we could. Tug of war! Groups or teams, pulling the rope side to side over a mud pit. High stakes. Sense of pride and protecting that pride. Rope used to pull things, climb things, drag things. Tough to cut. Magic rope. Siamese hopefuls. Lettuce and cream cheese. Marvelous industry. Thoughts unprovoked. Rope rules. Rope hope. Trisha rides her trusty steed, raises her arm above her head. Her lasso circles, circles, circles in perfect protractor formation. She squints her eyes in the summer sun, dead set on her target – A bull. This lasso will fly over to him, around his neck and she will capture and brand him.

Author: Roe

she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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