In a Texas Town
In a Texas town, in the stifling heat,
In a tiny room by night,
A keyboard clicked and clattered,
And a voice boomed bold and bright,
Where a solitary author
Was pounding out his tales
Of Kull and Kane and Conan
To make pulp market sales.
On an Underwood typewriter
Of ebony and gold
He wrote three times as many yarns
As every one he sold.
He earned as much as the best man there,
For writing was his passion.
Though the pulps are crumbling into dust
His words are still in fashion.
He’ll always be remembered
For the tales through which he powered.
That town was Cross Plains, Texas,
And his name was Bob E Howard.
This is an especially good homage to REH. I hope someday you get to visit the very spot it describes, if you haven't already done so! I can attest that the atmosphere of the place is still very much charged with his spirit!