Resident Artist 3: No. 9 —- BOOTS

The road traveled

Blurs in faded memory

Wrong turns mercifully hidden

We have stood

My boots and I

In the false shelter

Of dark and desperate bars

In every dead end town

Along this road of shame

We have walked

From the beds of broken girls

Bloodied from late night brawls

We have run

Hunted by a past

Best dead and buried

Searching for a truth

We do not want to find

Now we hide

Waiting out the day

Swallowing the fear

Sweating beneath the copter whip

Of the ceiling fan

In another rat fuck motel

With the roaches in the trash

And the druggies next door

Reaching for the bottle

Fuel for the fire

Preparing to stride

Into the sheltering dark

At the sinking of the cruel sun

Brave again

My boots and I

And the night ahead

Is already forgotten

Resident Artist 3: Dion Loubser No. 9