1888 Wyoming Poem

I tried the canyon between us
took us so far out west we
shuddered in masks
to take the armored address
in vessels covered in text.

the money spews out my future
who told me who was you’re suitor
throwin’ round cash
to pay the foolish illusion
of shuddering hordes of the devil’s men…
chasing the crowd then he settles them.

My pistol erases futures
engage in reflex, contort
correctly put it in place
she throws from the tunnel of doom.

The wretched flame it
covers all in a motion
impossible to identify
irreversible, exemplify.