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The Bad Boyfriend (EP)

The Bad Boyfriend (EP)

There hadn’t been cowboys in The Valley since the early nineteen eighties, but they were re-emerging. At shopping malls stocked with shoe stores, cell phone kiosks, jewelry retailers, and airbrush photography studios, you could find them. Even though it had been forty years since their boots clicked against the cold, shiny floors, the cowboys were comfortable because the shops hadn’t changed much. And shoppers still had fancy hair, big earrings, and credit cards just like in 1983. On any given day in 2017, there would be a cowboy leaning up against the wall of an ice cream vendor or with his arms propped up on a corn dog stand. It was home. 

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This Is the Wednesday Night Saloon

This Is the Wednesday Night Saloon

I’m here
I said to the ladybug next to my fist
then took my hand from the bar
dropped my hat onto a stool
unfastened my holster
I started to yell that I was a butterfly
The bug fluttered, walked away
I poured a beer anyway
slung off my belt
turned down my brim

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Riot

Riot

Something has run away
It’s my train
The one I ride in
So my whiskey is mixed with tears
Maybe my train has sped off with the fork and spoon
But it’s gone missing and it’s WANTED

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