by Denver Butson
at the end of this movie I dreamt
in which I was a bicyclist in the Wild West
and you were the pretty girl with a fast gun
the sunset was the color of smoked salmon
and the mountains looked like paintings
of mountains
I said if I'm really the hero
I should ride this here bicycle into that sunset
and you said what bicycle?
and shot it out from under me
with your lightning-fast six-shooter
and I said I reckon I could walk
and I started walkin'
and you caught up to me holstering your smoking gun
while Ennio Morricone himself
sauntered out from the green room
behind the mountains
humming a song so longing
so beautiful
we couldn't help wishing
that this was our forever
this sun this music
and those ushers down there
dragging their trashbags
silently through the aisles.
-Denver Butson
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
as the credits rolled
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