I was a cowboy riding on the rails
In New York City
My hope was wrapped around my arm
Snake like in some tattoo  toned imagery
All I could do was laugh as I tried to lasso a subway rat
Instead I roped a vagrant verbal woman
Interested more in my money than my manifestos
As I asked her for directions and headed for the nearest saloon
Knocking back Mai Tais martinis and anything to get rid of the red-eyes
As I took to the streets with the best of them
My six shots revolving around my hips
Ready to pop off ballistic caps we took trips
Up on the Loisaida where we listened to poetics
Conjured up from the voodoo dreams
Of jungle lovers and able bodied mysticists, lyricists and hypnotists
Where I was caught in a song
Low-leveed moans  where the Boriqua she showed me
Just how to fly over the city at midnight
Without ever leaving the ground
She spread her wings and lifted off for Puerto Rico by way of
East side refrains and winters demonic rise scratching at our skin
I caught a cold from the thousand faces breathing in my space
Felt the summers last humid hang time holding on to me
And the rest of the million players, traitors, runners and haters
Raced off to some appointment  and a desperate violent rodeo
Spanish senorita with black lace hiding eyes and lipstick thrills
I’ll place you on top of the world where you can ride for free
Never mind the horses being replaced with women and men
Wanting to be ridden into the ground
Leave your corral so I can show you dreams of happily ever after
As you gaze down from a hundred stories up
Small people point fingers and laugh in silent configurations
While I think twice about diving in to look for your still precious pearls
You should have seen me ride her all the way downtown
As she jumped , leapt and rolled over the hilled White Plains past Ft. Apache
Where the war council fires still burned underground
And the Great White Way was holding out with one last gentrified gasp
We weren’t Les’ Mis’  we were more West Side Story and Warriors with Bonnie and Clyde
Riding with us in settled  silence with
I traded in my Tony Llamas for Kenneth Cole’s  patent leather black
And my Stetson Resistol for a Kangol cap
Can you get to that?