Note from Joe: This poem was written specifically as the lyrics of a song. Since it’s a “Country Western” song, I ignored the lyrics for years, assuming that it was just another song about the famous western outlaw William H. Bonney (1859-81), known to history and legend as Billy the Kid. The first time I actually listened to the words, it blew me away. It is about Billy the Kid, but not that one.
Strapped on my holster low across my hips,
Two Colt .45’s with black plastic grips;
And I’d head west through our neighborhood,
And they’d say,
“Here comes young Billy and he’s up to no good.”
I rode a trail through the neighbor’s backyard,
Shootin’ the Bad Guys through my handlebars.
Known for my bravery both far and near,
Bein’ late for supper was my only fear.