a cowboy was never an option,
despite
spending endless hours
as a kid
wearing my
hop along Cassidy
outfit
and riding my plastic horse
on springs.
i had a belt with
two cap pistols
and rolls of red caps
tucked
inside my
pleated black shirt.
i was always under attack
by indians
or outlaws,
dodging bullets
and arrows,
doing all the voices
with the door shut
and the lights off.
i remember my sister
poking her head
in to see what all the commotion
was about,
and asking me,
what's wrong with you?
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