Gordon Miller Art + Writing
Road to Glory Land
They came for him this morning
The angels too?
Damn if I know but I doubt it
A dead man doesn’t know or care
Was he sober when it happened?
Stained yellow fingers from tobacco
And smelling like a jack pine swamp
Was he roaring drunk or
Sad and scared?
Damn if I know but I doubt it
They say he went out like a man
We whored drank and fought
Laughed and cried
Across this wretched land
Rootless yet carefree
We just didn’t give a damn
We worked every menial job
From here to Timbuktu
Cut the trees
Mined the gold
Bored to death in factories
Damn if I know but I doubt it
But he cried for you
He was only forty-nine
Black unruly hair
Tall and slim
Every old girl’s dream
He died in the cool of the evening
Under a waning moon
Covered with a horse blanket
In the back of a battered pickup truck
I’m ready to catch the westbound
Will he be waiting?
When the angels come for me?
Damn if I know but I doubt it
A dead man doesn’t know or care