the awkward dawn stretch. / the minute before when / he ain’t a man, just / a matchflame within someone’s reach.
Content warning: references to death, allusions to homophobia/transphobia
Here Lies Cowboy—
fought
shot
stole
died.
…
put his boots on the bed, got told
put that smoke out, seen enough
through the window, up the veins of the mountain,
got told stop smilin’ like a schoolgirl,
you all glittered up like the snake in the Garden,
holding that apple by the stem and twisting it,
spinning temptation.
spoiled himself with new spurs,
enjoyed the sound of them,
chiming like a bejewelled lady when he walked
silver, silver, dust. Here Lies Cowboy adream—
not like he used to be, not twitching catlike,
no bouncing fingers, no jaw working
overtime, no tooth-on-tooth,
no hat over his face so you can’t see his eyes
are open. always
slept like that. used to read the sweat-
stains on the canvas, little
interest in stars.
dreamed of a horse and a symphony of silver,
diamonds,
all up his arms.
Here Lies Cowboy, broke—
made no money keeping the best diamonds for himself.
Here Lies Cowboy, a bad invitation.
practises another pose.
this one could say huddle for warmth?
wishes the selfie was invented so he could check.
barely breathes through the night, feels
the body curled beside him and against him,
doesn’t even need a handhold.
the awkward dawn stretch.
the minute before when
he ain’t a man, just
a matchflame within someone’s reach.
just an orange flare, tear-shaped, inside the night.
so what if we died like this, out wild,
so far away we can’t be found,
can’t be buried.
ah well.
Here Lies Cowboy—
you want a man beside you in a grave,
sure.
take the devil.