My pistol is loaded as I head
out for
the Wild West
Tales of Buffalo hunts
and killer coyotes
have been
fed my head
and I really wonder
I hop on my horse
and we head
toward Reno
leaving “sane” society behind
3 motorcycles without drivers
slowly
pass before us
The trucks and Pintos
and rabbits
all pass before us
(a race with a rabbit?
sorry wrong story)
The promised land lies
over
the mountains
but there’s
3 mountains to cross
So we head to California
and wonder
what’s in store
The sun is sinking faster
so I know
I’m on my way
May 15, 1986