There was a consortium

A contingency 

Of something I forget

Creatures of the no man's land

Brokered and bartered to nowhere

There hats were not blue or black

They were followers of Mohonk

Their tattoos were not Scorpions

But they spied in places

They ran the forest fire brigades

And attenuated to cyclical wine diversions

They listened for the creaking of a door

Displaced the Cherokee in a van with stickers

Honk if you love Jesus

Some had Birkenstocks others wore Nikes 

One difficult member insisted on Adidas

And one preferred Pumas 

But he said they had no arch support

Still he wouldn't give them up

He liked the style

Their plains were covered with mossy creatures

We live amongst the brethren livestock

We make cheese from their milk

You can't buy it in any stores

Their religion expressly forbid the practice of music streaming

The Lord does not condone the practice of stealing.