He was a cowboy
At least he had the look
Who but a cowboy would wear those boots
And that silly looking hat
At a bar on the south side of St Louis
I could almost smell the horsey scent of him
And I was smitten
He was the Marlboro man
And John Wayne rolled into one
He had to have ridden here
On a horse parked outside somewhere
And I’m sure his six guns were behind the bar
Never far from his reach
In case the bad guys ride into town
My fantasies were going full blast
As I edged closer to where he stood
Legs bowed a bit and a hand rolled cigarette between his lips
He turned to the bartender and ordered another
And his nasally Brooklyn accent
Killed my fantasies forever
And I left with an accountant from the West Side
Never even glancing back