David Harmer
The Very Last Thoughts Of Jesse James
I raise the picture
my fingers grip the silver nail
a hammer lifts,
my ears feel for the bullet
If I fell now
my blood would drench
the children.
We could ride
for endless days, the prairie
and the mountains,
we never saw a neighbour’s smoke
never knew
the wooden towns.
Forgive my fall,
I meet my own boatman
by the dark river,
press silver coins
into the dying bank clerk’s eyes
as his bones
grip the oars.
Ford did this.
I did murder, I did robbery,
I did not sing.
Cole lies in the county gaol
my brother drinks
all my friends
are dead.
Too many banks
too many trains and rivers
dark and flowing fast enough
to drown my horse.
The bullet lodges in my ear
the picture breaks.
all I ever did
was kill.
Page(s) 41
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