The parking valets in Portland

are dressed as vaqueros.

Black shirts, vests and sombreros.

They hit their hat brims

sliding behind the wheels

of the cars they park.

In the rain, they sag

and drip tears of black dye.

In the rare sun,

they make them sweat

and break out.

It’s tough

being a cowboy

in Portland.

By Raud Kennedy

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