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# American Paisano
- URL: https://www.yacubdavidsmith.com/american-paisano/
- Published: 2026-09-26T06:31:41.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-26T10:50:39.000Z
- Author: yacub david smith
- Tags: Poetry, Just Like Cambridge

Set your détente high on the hill!  
The senators who cry out,  
While the idle paisano hails,  
The citizen in arms who rides.

Headlong to dust, with horseweed  
That hangs from lips blistered with boils,  
From the ongoing heat of the lip burning sun.

Kicking up particles that scratch squinted eyes,  
Uncovered in light which means the rider well,  
As it guides to far away shores  
where a foreign bell,  
Tolls louder and louder as his soul falls into hell.

The senators are crying,  
Julius waits silent before the flight,  
But a kedge in paisley kerosene  
wraps around his ankles tight,  
For the hell that consumes  
does delight in high flames at night,  
To scorch the fat of the lips,  
the smutch man calls dying.

Set your peace high on the hill!  
The paisano returns in buskins  
to empty oil fields,  
He will drop his go-devil, stars and the stripes,  
will lie gnashed on the ground,  
sodden strewn in the weeds,  
where those tumbled and burning  
do blister and bleed.