Colorado

I saw him in the subway

I looked twice through the glass

Shadows are convincing

But he's never coming back

In negative seven

He was standing with a smoke

Just looking towards Heaven

As if he knew the joke

Uncle was a gambler

With a butterfly tattoo

Somewhere down in Florida

He did a favor for some dude

With a pistol in his glove box

It was open and shut

I met him the week he got out

At the wake of his son

Driving through Colorado

I thought of these things

To boredom, the weight of reality rings

Through highways and deserts and cities and parks

And broke schools protected by the National Guard

Most days I pass with my head in the dark

But today, it seems so clear to me