A.P. Lewis

Midnight Rodeo

I’m goin’ Down--
              Down,
              Down,



The cowgirls are all lined up in their spring straw hats
spray-bottled to roll up the sides
while Freddie Flame’s prayin’ over a nubile in her panties
 ‘Darlin’ yer so beautiful, just one more little kiss[ie]’
She wraps herself back up in a blankie

As above,
I’m below

my rt. arm is twitching from free-heat and Shiner Bock,
Dustballs on the floor and tumbleweeds in my mouth.
Is that a stain on the carpet or shadow on the ceiling?

                                                       I’m goin’ down.
                                                               down
                                                          down


a spider web tattooed on his elbow
his mother and wife and girlfriend
to afford his bail

wetback on the bottom cot
my head next to the toilet.
The’ll march us out in the morning,
shackled, in orange jumpsuits & flip-flops.


 It’s high time for a showdown
so we’ll meet in the middle of town
at sunrise.

I’m goin’ down
              down
              down
Attorneys were tearing off their shirts
and squaring up to Violent Jack
smashed his head into a brick wall in the parking lot
Univerity of Texas [Uo’T] Linemen
GHB & GBH
The body builder had his finger in two holes
and shoved them into my nostrils--
When you’re sober you can put a move on these fellers
under the armpit and in the neck
road-rash sliding out the back door
next to the dumpster

Now she’s straddling me with
 ‘fresh nugs’ pasted in green on the platform heels of her a go-gos
blowing hot meth up into the ventilator
she worked her fingers around the of crux of my neck,
and I wept.
--Hey, I paid 40 dollars for this booth,
get your own, pal.

Is that a shadow on the carpet,
Or a stain on the ceiling?

I’m goin’
      down
       down
        down

There’s a woman in a red dress on crutches missing a leg on 6th st laughing at 3
burned for yeao, and left with a backpack filled with dirty laundry
as fliers blow by for all tomorrows parties

goblin hunting Rangers
shining mag lights into the reddened eye
of a 1976 mustang

the dealer had fat dogs with double chins chained to the pole in the yard
I lay in waiting in the back of the Lincoln continental with my fast food connection
on a ventilator
his younger sister is playing show and tell with me again


                                              I’m goin’ down
               I’m goin down
                     down
                            down
                                         down

to the
     midnight rodeo
The atmans ridin’ the bucking brahma again.
A converted roller rink and christmas lights in circles

Two steps,
from the border of the border

I’m goin down,
to boystown
with a thief in the passenger seat
[he’s the driver]
we’re getting head
from headhunters
the mothers
are vying for the position
with their daughters

We’re working on 6th st.for Arabs
we’re shelving books for queers
We’re hiding up in the attic
with our pop guns
and antique rugs
and sailor hats
now we’re down in the basement
with a jig
and a workbench
and something
dripping from the ceiling

I’m goin’ down

Tonight, I finally learned the half-truth from Goblin Jim,
or was that Fast Eddie?
He whispered it in my bad ear:
There’s an unmarked ivory graveyard
in the desert west of here
filled with the last remains of
our frail dignity.

The dividing line
and its mile markers of chicken wire
and virgin concrete
and vigilantes,

The border knows no boundary.

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