My dad is a gunslinger

My dad is a gunslinger.

His name is Gentz.

He made slingshots of sticks.

Carried me on shoulders slick with mental illness.

Took his sick and ran with it:

Miles.

See his child:

Smiles.

It’s sick so it can heal.

Walks with the dead of car crashes.

The tree, it leans over Mauvaisterre Creek.

See the tree;

The tree is me.

Bullies and vacancy,

It made him kind.

See the spine, how it leans cause it carried me.

It made me kind through all this sick.

Made my guts spit and stir with the Word:

My Dad Is A Gunslinger.

My dad is a demon I believe in.

A Heavenly Father with skin.

My dad is a gunslinger,

His name is Gentz.