I was Doc Holliday and you were my Austin gal...

June poetry number three...

I was Doc Holiday and you were my Texas gal...

"Doc Holliday prayer...

I pray I die with a gun in my hand, I pray I die with a pretty Texas dancing gal holding me tightly. I want my funeral in the tavern. I ain't seeking forgiveness, I ain't seeking any kind of peace. Hell-bound life, fall where it should. When I am dead, send me off with a whiskey cheer and silver coins in my eyes."

I was the Austin City dark poet and I loved the Happy hours. I drank my whiskey and I sang with Hank William Jr. I told my cup of whiskey. Life is today, tomorrow is, another day. My friends called me Doc Holliday, because I wanted to raise hell, loved the girls and I told the world to f**k-off. Few could keep up me. I was seeking death and death didn't want me.

Pretty Texas gal name Sara would find me on the weekends. She would take me home and keep me sane. She would hold me tightly and she would sing to me, playing her guitar. 

"You are my Doc Holliday, my drinking, fighting and foolish gambling man who want everything and you want nothing. I am your Texas gal and I love you so. You follow me everywhere and you love my wild Texas spirit. We are hell-bound and the Devil don't want us. He told us. Hell don't need you, hell don't want you. Texas is your home."

We would sing by the Austin River. "We love whiskey kisses, the Texas two-step and the quiet of the desert. We must always ask for more, never ask for less. When we are old and almost dead. We will regret, we didn't do enough."

Tonight I write with my glass of whiskey and water near.

"My Texas dream. I became old and so damn tire. Death is whispering my name dear Sara. My pretty Texas gal, thank you for the dance, thank you for the laughter and the song. Thank you for making me brave once. Your Doc Holliday don't gamble no-more, maybe drink more. I need a Austin City night with you, I need to do the Texas two-step with you and hold you close. I would cherish every kiss and I wouldn't try to escape this time. Old Johnnie is in Michigan and I am dreaming of you, I am dreaming of the Austin City nights. You were my Texas sweetheart, my Texas miracle.

Coyote

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

dear John... it is amazing how we are Born with Passion that grows as we grow... and there is a Time when it demands attention. I understand the feelings, and will always remember until December... when Snow will find Roses buried but not forgotten. gently, Pat

[Coyote Poetry]

Hello dear Pat. I told my children. Travel, test life and be brave. I was once and thank you for reading and the comment my dear friend.

[red93]

Fabulous Coyote - you're a real genuine Beat Poet and no mistake.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend. I need a year in Austin, Texas. I would write the great novel.

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

I love this
I feel your feelings as I read it and feel I’m there back in the wild Wild West

[Coyote Poetry]

I need a Austin night, maybe many. Thank you dear Julie for reading and the comment.