Editor’s Note:

I hadn’t seen nor heard a word from Spur, so I thought it was in best interests of the magazine to use our remaining year’s budget and fly to his estate just outside of Bozeman, Montana. Upon arrival, I found Spur “Netflix and Chilling.” He apologized for the lack of communication, owing it to his unhealthy addiction of watching every CSI and NCIS series back to back. I asked him if he wouldn’t mind writing a poem in 7 minutes, to celebrate our “7 Minutes in Heaven” issue. At that point, Spur punched me in the neck and asked me to leave and never contact him again.
 

Two weeks later, I received an envelope by northern goshawk (the only way Spur will send and receive mail). What was inside was seven pages of extremely graphic, bordering on insensitive pages of single-spaced typed lines describing, in what I can only conceive as numerous ways in which I could go ahead and have “relations” with myself. Page eight was, what appeared to be, covered in fecal matter. The ninth page, however, contained the following cowboy poem.

 

Increments of Time by Spur Nutcheck

​

Time is merely an illusion,

Is what’s been often said.

And increments of time measured,

Is what’s been going through my head.

 

20 minutes is what I’ve found

To tie a lasso that won’t break.

23 more minutes it can last

When your rope is a live rattlesnake.

 

Drinking Old Milwaukee with my dog,

Rico is abrasive.

Over time, it takes three beers in him,

Before he gets too racist.

 

The scariest time in my whole life,

I concede was not that smart.

I only spent 4 minutes

Past 10 pm in a WalMart.

It’s never wasting one’s time,

Watching clouds above, so high.

The most important time I’ve taken

Is binge watching NCIS and CSI.

 

I wrote this poem in 7 minutes,

Not the greatest, I’ll admit.

But it was written, whilst I was sittin’

On the throne, taking a [REDACTED].