Friday, July 1, 2016

Deborah Coy


I have no name.
I turn my foot as zombies chase.
I go to the basement to change the fuse.
I leave to pee and never return.
I wear red on the away team.

I know that glorious cantankerous
craving to be special,
to be the one and only
to not be mistaken for someone else.

That’s what keeps me at the hero’s side.

I’m the also ran, the buddy, pal and buffoon.

There are perks
to being the sidekick.
No autograph hounds pester me.
I don’t have to hide my identity.

But lets face it.
I’ll never get the girl.

I’ll be left sweeping up the glass
while the hero rides into the sunset.

Call me Robin, or Wilson, or Watson, or Tonto.
We are famous in our own ways.
We are also necessary.
We remember their stories.
We ride behind them.

We have their backs.

Deborah Coy

See Beatlick Press for some of Deborah's editing publishing and original work.

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