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The Gun.

The gun was tucked
into the belt

of your jeans
the hat (your father's

borrowed trilby)
pushed to the back

of your head
you had recently shot

the boss-eyed sheriff
behind the grocer's store

and rode with Jessie James
across the open plains

of the local park
and pumped Pete Badham

full of imaginary lead
in the back not the head

to have a better chance
and entering the bar

of the High Rider
you ordered a glass

of Red Eye
(water from the tap

in a borrowed glass)
and chattered up

the girl (slut as your mother
would have called her)

who wore feathers
and a very short skirt

(Dave Walker's sister)
and sipped the water

with a pulled face
and still had time

before sundown
(your mother calling

[...] Read more

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