the kid
in dodge
city who
is making
a movie
abt tony
moffeit
wants to
put me
in it but
doesn’t
realize
all he’s
going to
get on
film is
a blurred
shadow
because
the out
law w/
my name
is on his
way to
tulsa
reno
flagstaff
taos the
duende
road has
conjured
that blood
& some
wd be
shaman
in the
city of
angels
thinks
he knows
me but
all he
knows
is the
shadow
of a
shadow
a negative
of a neg
ative
of
a
negative
right now
the outlaw
w/my
name is
cruising
wilcox
in a black
pickup
while i’m
home i
keep a
variation
of the
color
black in
every
room &
a little
32 shoved
under
the bed
where the
night is
busy
eating
the dark
the kid…
Filed under poems by todd moore