The sunset turned the skyline into a blue and orange heaven
The world does not
bite as hard
and this lone star is damn cold
......
This city of gold and oil and blood
this cowboy wasteland
I have been wondering things
and feeling certain ways about how I move around here
I do not want to live forever
in some unmarked grave
sprayed upon some memorial wall
written about in a song
talked about in the dim light of some
shady neighborhood bar over
a solemn shot of whiskey and a
long, brown and red bottle neck
Lone star
because I have been feeling like an old, burnt
out celestial body hovering in the
vastness of space in it's final moments
alone and afraid
my eyes are turning as red as this logo
and I am talking to the
things around me again
I am so lost
and I may be walking the wrong way down the street
10 years and I still end up in strange places sometimes
....
the streets have taken so many this year and last
the boulevards were so quiet
the other night.
just that night.
it was
a full moon, I believe
perhaps a fleeting moment of satisfaction
for this voracious ghetto of
lost children and tall swamp grass
i hear no sirens, gunfire
neighbors beating their kids
no dogs in the street chasing unlicensed drivers
down the third world architecture of Jenson blvd.
.....
Oil
Blood
Sex
Cocaine
slavery
Human sacrifice in a multitude of forms
The city must feed.
.....
this is where innocent suburban children come looking for a kick
and end up getting stomped in the head until their brains leak out of their nostrils
this is where a young artist becomes the final peice of their morose expression;
they become another dead friend, brother, sister,
father, uncle, cousin, drug dealer
Hunter S. Thompson was right
about the pansexual cowboys and the
rampant lawlessness
this is not a place for
those who wish to be safe
they say that if you are scared you should go
to church, but
even the churches in Houston will
fuck your wife and leave with
your money
it'll trap you in it's maw and
chew you up till
you're either dead or made of Iron
......
goddamn
This sunset
this is the kind of sunset that
honors the fallen and gives strength
to the rest of us
It's nearly down
the sky is the color of rust
I am drunk by this point
thinking about stepping off that bus
thinking about the things I saw in that
southside motel room
in a drug addled stupor
unmentionable things
demons in the streets
ghosts in the glare of broken mirrors
.....
you really
oughta see this sunset
it's so much
more important than whatever
bad habits or non-living
things you have had to run from
This city is built upon the bodies of slaves
and prisoners and murder victims and
overdosed friends and family members
who have drank themselves to death
Enjoy yourself here,
cowboy
a voice is now telling me
Some day, you're blood will become a
part of this bayou and your
name may even be sprayed upon
a wall and you will stay forever in that
same golden red sunset which has inspired some
of the world's greatest artists
do not run from death
it is how you must survive
trust me, the voice says
I must be very drunk now
the good kind of drunk
the laughing kind
......
Texas is the reason
Houston is the result
The Night Watch 