the days are long,
sun waning in the distance
like a mirage of desire.
i heard the violence,
back room backhanding
and counter top corruption with the guise
of being a big bad western hero;
john wayne with his hands up in surrender.
i don't want to go west anymore,
racing down the pacific coast highway like a bat out of dante's inferno
running from demons whose fire licks my heels and lights the whiskey in my eyes.
i don't want to sit dazed in an empty swimming pool,
knees bloody, all my hopes floating in an old beer can.
the palm trees hypnotize me and when i look out at the sea,
i feel the buzz of world war 2 and the death that drowns in the deep blue waves.
my home is not the desert and her lawlessness,
I AM NO COWBOY.
i may not cry wolf on my knees to the law
but i sure as hell want to.
i want to lay on my back in thick fields of grass and feel Gods eyes through the trees
and not under a blistering fire, open sky for miles with no escape from his wrathful hand.
