The lives we live are useless -
all the deceptions and the lies,
the culture here’s so full of shit,
no one showing their true eyes…
so he decided he’d had enough -
another legend on the rise.
He stole a Wrangler down in Denver -
drove all night and then some more,
using Sam Colt as his currency,
taking gas, food - every store…
he stayed on backroads and the byways -
‘til he reached the Jersey shore.
“You’re a gorgeous Cuban angel -
suffocating in the debris,
under the weight of the life you live,
upper-crust society…
so climb on up my blue-steel babe -
we’ll show these fucks how to be free.”
Then they hauled it down the interstate -
hitting banks along the way,
using the cover of the darkness,
to keep the F.B.I. at bay…
living life to its very fullest -
every moment of every day.
Laughing smoking singing -
letting love and lust collide,
he’d never felt this loved and strong,
she felt adored and so alive…
the perfect mix of passion -
she his Bonnie, he her Clyde.
They were hunkered down in Austin -
relaxing with the setting sun,
the Feds snuck up surrounding them,
and they knew their time had come…
they locked their hands - a final kiss -
then they each pulled out their gun.
They burst out through the hotel door -
with their pistols ringing loud,
the Feds returned the fire sure,
matching shot with every round…
when the smoke and gunplay finally cleared -
the lovers lay dead on the ground.
The papers called them criminals -
T.V. stations did their part,
the cop who found them told his tale,
though he left out the very heart…
for when he found those lovers dead -
he had to pry their hands apart.
Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Included in the e-book, "Walls of Shadow"
Written October 2008
Known in many (albeit small) online circles over the past 15 years, Stone Bryson is a poet, storyteller, and essayist. He is working on various writing projects, and lives what he describes as an 'analog life.' He resides in Jackson County, Missouri.