the horse drinks:
I lost all my confidence
like Alfred Hitchcock at the top of the stairway,
his cameo face a little ball on the banister
getting smaller and smaller.
I offered my identity to the petty thief
in the market, but I stuttered so much
he didn't even want it. Nor did he
want to haggle. He ran away so fast
like something shattering.
Soon, I'll pick up my gun, the holster
and the rest. I'll finish this silly narrative.
The good guys will conquer the bad.
We'll all wear white hats.
Some evil fella will be redeemed
from his terrible past. Some
relentless loser will find love
when the girl next door finally gives up.
We'll all win academy awards
for showing up with no make up.
Wherever we wonder will be home.
But for the moment:
let me lie around in you,
like tumbleweed in the desert
before the frame moves.