BillPosted: April 12, 2012
I knew a cowboy in Texas named Bill.
I guess I wanted him as a Father.
But he was a loner. He wouldn’t drive
till after midnight. He liked empty roads.
This cowboy made moonshine
in the woods, kept a spiral notebook
in his khaki shirt pocket, read science fiction.
We’re reachin’ out from inside. We know there
ain’t no real heaven. But maybe
that’s still where we’ll all end up––out there.
How we’ll be…
He wanted to know where West was
or he got nervous. He couldn’t handle
compliments or prosperity.
He liked without better.
This cowboy was brave,
and knew not to show it.
But this cowboy wanted
reassurance too. He didn’t
want it from people.
He wanted it from the sky.