Beyond the speech that drawls from
the corners of your mouth
like the old westerns did,

and beyond your affinity for three's;
Three sips, three double takes,
three flicks of the switch
before you say goodnight,

is an Indian Chief,
a cowboy,
a boy in suspenders,
with a red tipped gun to his side
and an ability to suspend
the hollow, hollow time.

Is a dangled future that sways with
the breeze from the back door,
as you capture the audience,
a room full of bears,
with all your sweet nothings.

e.campagna