I once was a cowboy king
and the American desert was
my playground.

My kingdom was my mind
and then it was free
to wander in the grass.

I smoked false cigarettes
made of sugar and chased
invisible horses.

The waves washed over my feet
and they sank into
the wisdom of the sand.

I built for myself a meager
castle with a moat
so I could stand above it.

The fluorescent corridors were
my stomping-grounds
and the servants stared.

No door could hold me
for I bore the royal hall pass
on my belt loop,

right beside my Crayola revolver.