stars have faded
moons have blacked out
planets are filled with blood
poor Young Williams dead
blood in his stommach like rubies
You can see his smile at dying young
like he had figured he would- when less confident

(memory: moving across the world on horses
ahead of its time in the desert sleeping under a blue sky )

in his head bloodplanets
his eyes surf on turf
he´s giggling
like he said
poor young Williams dead
we sold the bullets sold them to the Texas star
they showed them to the people who had walked far
to see poor young Williams bullets, the ones that killed the Kid
he´s riding in heaven
the guns are coming home
Billy the Kid
the kid

Pat Garrett (remarkably handsome man, superior mind)
Dave Rudabaugh (whatever he is doing, I hope Daves doing ok)
Charlie who died while everyone played cards in new mexico territory
and Pat gave me a shot of leavin but I have my friends here, Billy said in an interview before the hanging where he shot JW Bell with a six shooter
Pat got Tom O Folliard, shot him down (you really got me)
wanted dead or alive, the Kid
wanted dead or alive Billy

Mr Bonney do you believe In God
no, see, i believe they put you in a box and you stay there forever and thats it. I was fighting with Tom O Folliard over a horse and crossed myself fast so that nobody would see, and then fired the rifle but Tom was really good with shooting. I really wanted that horse.



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~catching me like a butterfly in her Tuscon room~


PALS
Chavez y Chavez mexican indian

this room is getting to me and its cold
we miss you....Mr Bonney

the room gets darker when we whisper your name, Billy. I hear an owl. Will you take me there, the desert, Tuscon, New Mexico, riding somewhere south of heaven Billy, you are free.
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