Literature
Dakota
Cowboy sky country eyes;
I wanted to tell the artist on the street corner
that he painted them wrong.
But he looked so proud of them,
that I felt sorry for that fool;
that fool who had never understood the meaning of
colors and where they come from,
that they're more than just playful, pretty dots
and swirls made to entertain
tourists as they gaze with bored,
false admiration at concrete walls.
Maybe I was arrogant that day, more so than usual.
Maybe I missed you that day,
more than I ever have before;
since you left this carriage-hills place
stuck in a time warp and
flew back to California with your brother
to run the horse races,