It’s time for your monthly punishment of poetry.
I had the form for Vasquez’s poem chosen before I had an idea of what I was going to write. He’s an interesting character in that of the Seven, he is unquestionably an outlaw. Chisholm has a warrant for his arrest and trades his freedom for his participation. We glean a little of his character -he’s proudly Mexican and his granddaddy fought at the Alamo (maybe killing Goodnight Robicheaux’s granddaddy at that same battle, which, as Goodnight says, is a charming thought)- and he’s quickly established as Faraday’s frenemy, but we’re never explicitly told what he’s done that landed his warrant in Chisholm’s hands. Judging by the way he handles his gun and his pride, I’m guessing it’s murder-related.
But our Mexican outlaw must have a heart of gold, or at the very least some kind of honor, to go along with Chisholm’s plan to defend the town from a guy doing way worse than Vasquez would ever dream.
For his poem, I decided on an Espinela, named after the form’s creator Vincente Espinel. It’s a ten line poem broken into two stanzas with four lines in the first stanza and six in the second. There’s eight syllables per line and the rhyme scheme is abba/accddc. One of the easier forms I chose for the Seven.
Also, I got to use the word “loam”. A criminally underused word, in my opinion.
Vasquez
The writ claims he’s a wanted man,
his survival against the law.
His life a wound opened and raw.
Taking whatever edge he can.
Unaware of a change in plan.
The path he crosses on his roam,
leading him to fight on the loam.
The worst he’s done put to good use.
The battle within brought to truce.
He knows the cost of losing home.
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