From degage
to new heart
my being slips through
old saloon doors
with my spurs making
marks in the floor
I spent too much time
at the marbled station
wandering from
midnight places,
my followers fled
a new heart
in an old body
making my way through
pristine lobbies
tumbleweed blown
through the sand
I pray to the piano
but my saddle up
to the whores
with copper hearts
with silver bullets
and the old west
became undone
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