At first only a casual concern that he was a lunatic.
Laughable in and always willing
(what we should have known)
Movies make friends, talking:
the Cowboy was justice-
and he seems rather charming
at first only an intermittent concern for fucking him.
Buy-a-pint-trade-a-pint
(a wormhole over the wide wood)
and slowly fade out Sister
screaming, "you can't have him
he's my friend
stay away from him"
and his charred laughing-
but by then there was no concern even for the wind.
4 years later, wrapped in my futon
(I had always known)
on the floor, and after teaching
me coo and yawn, it started
showing: the PocketStitcher
for Christmas.
But it took just a day and I knew that he was a lunatic.
61 degrees in January
(shuffle between bars)
and when we don't cross at the corner
you cry ghetto!, and always, stupid!
and huff to the light
then past the already seated us
and fake invisibility down the street.