Andre F. Peltier

Wyatt Earp in Outer Space

Cracking skulls
in Dodge City, in Wichita,
on the great buffalo hunts,
Wyatt Earp had a dream.
While dealing cards
and pimping whores
in those back-water cow-towns,
Wyatt Earp had a dream.
He would lie in the tall grass
under the stars
of the Great Plains and wonder.
“How does one
make his fortune?” he asked.
“How can we strike gold
and make it count?”
He loved his brothers,
his family, his dentist,
but more so he loved his
money.
“Maybe we should mosey south;
we could book passage
and land in the land
of silver and the holy saguaro.”
Wyatt Earp stared at those stars
and considered the moon.
The last great frontier.
“The moon could use a Marshall,”
he thought.
“The moon could use some
law and order.”
Only getting there was the problem.

 Virg had been a lawman
in California,
and he fought in the War
Between the States.
Virg had an idea.
Wyatt knew adventure
was out there,
even for a poor pimp with
bad teeth.

 “Get some rope,” said Virg.
And so Wyatt roped the moon.
He climbed and climbed
and climbed.
There are no saguaro
in the Sea of Tranquility.
There’s no silver
in Montes Agricola.
But Wyatt found riches
of the mind.
He slept in the shadows of
Mons Esam,
a dreamless sleep:
contented,
at peace.

Andre F. Peltier (he/him) is a Lecturer III at Eastern Michigan University where he teaches literature and writing. He lives in Ypsilanti, MI, with his wife and children. His poetry has recently appeared in various publications like CP Quarterly, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Provenance Journal, About Place, Novus Review, Wingless Dreamer, and Fahmidan Journal, and most recently in Lavender and Lime Literary. In his free time, he obsesses over soccer and comic books.

Twitter: @aandrefpeltier

Website: www.andrefpeltier.com