Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Stunted growth they said
As I came back to consciousness
And rubbed my head

Who goes there I demanded?
Knowing my mistake almost at once,
I could smell their old spice
The grevious knights.

The ghost of Gram Parsons was late
And I was up shit creek.
Where to go from here?
And me without a Palomino.

The boils on my billfold have begun to bore me
My last place ribbons have begun to swarm me
Back ye jealous fiends!
You can't dress like me.


The ghost of Jimi Hendrix hovered above me
Like scrambled porn on UHF
My eyes couldn't adjust fast enough
My ribbons twittered.
What do you want with me? My blood? My ribbons?

Buck Owens like a vision hovered before me
Nudie suit a-jangle
And me in mine.

Who can say who was faster on the draw?
He's a ghost
With ghost bullets.

I am a man with man bullets.