Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Passing

He wears
a pistol
low
on his hip.
Riding
tall
on a snorting
black beast.
Easily.
Wrinkled
vision sweeping
purple horizon,
gently waving
back to him.
The rhythm
of shod feet
rocking him
as a babe
cradled.
Only sand
and scorpions
note
his passing.

1 comments:

  1. Nice imagery, what's with the yellow? My eyes! My eyes! I'm too old for this. ha ha

    ReplyDelete

Followers

About Me

My Photo
I struggle with addiction and am just recently out of prison- I dislike most people and am bitter and self destructive. Yet somehow I have a good time. My first wife wanted to be an FBI agent when I met her in college, and the last one was a prostitute,the former gave me three great kids that I named Dakota, Skye and Willow, the latter a hell of a hard time. In the past I have been a busboy, a waiter, and a bartender. I have worked in nearly all construction trades including carpentry, brick laying, electrical, weilding, and plumbing. Once I had a job where I climbed tree's for a living. I fought Mixed Martial Arts when they still called it No Holds Barred, I have sold cars and was an editorial cartoonist. I am a failed actor, to lazy to try very hard, and lived with outlaw bikers in Northern California. I served as a medic in the army,and studied creative writing as well as radio tv. I cook a mean breakfast and like to sit and think sometimes all day. Did I say think or drink?