.


cowboys

 

 

we were shootin blanks
straight up the moon

it was night on the sun
it was

very picturesque

we shot our blanks in doors
we shot straight into the ocean
we shot down a letter from the sky

blue,

                         it’s a possibility that the stars are all liars
                        & have sent us off into a wild goose
                        neck of the woods that dead ends hard into winter.
                        get back to me about this.
                                              -red

we shot ourselves straight out
of breath

we shot ourselves to pixels
smashing into nothing & everything

                        it was beauty in dirt
it was

what people are made of

 

 

 

***

 

 

Taylor Jacob Pate is an MFA candidate in the New Writers Project at UT Austin, as well as the editor in chief of Smoking Glue Gun Magazine & the art director for Bat City Review. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from: Forklift, Ohio, Similar : Peaks ::, The Coachella Review, Everyday Genius & decomP magazinE.

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