This Is A Gun
This is a gun
If no one had ever invented it
I would not know
That one
Gun
Was waiting for my outstretched hand
Just within reach
During those quiet moments
Appearing as a sleek steel solution
To a myriad of problems
An endless catalogue of grieves
Just a thought away
And the bullets
That go in it
So cheap and so plentiful
And life so expendable
That the thought comes
Most every day
This is a gun
A tool I can use
And my God-given right
Right?
Mine to bear and employ
Stead of sufferin’ the fools
And the madmen
And walking away
I can turn
Barrels blazing
So the sun glints off my teeth
And calmly
Quite rationally
Blow them away
With my tool
With my gun
Just a brief thought away
In the trunk of my car
Or in my nightstand
Bought off that one guy
Behind the taco stand
Who beckoned to me
With a crooked finger and said
“This is a gun.”
And it gleamed in the darkness
And it followed me home
Like a dirty thought
Still there and still lurid
In the cold light of day
Wrapped in an oily cloth
Stuffed in the back of a drawer
Under old socks and scrapbooks
That tell of decay
And love lost
And wars fought
And nothing’s been saved
But some money
In a jelly jar by the sink
With a label reading
“This is a gun.”
And every time
It hurt some
Or it hurt a little more
In went some quarters
And a couple of ones
To buy a gun
And when the rage
Filled my rooms
And burst open the doors
Fistfuls of money
Were forced in my jar
And the label was altered
“The Best Gun”
“The Worst Bullets”
“A Big Scary Thing”
Make them all pay
Like I pay
In cold sweat and blood
That I’ll turn into bullets
For my gun
This is a gun
And it’s mine
Not yours
You can get one
Go buy one
But I’ll kill you first
This is a gun
Party Girl Obituary
The party girl is dead and buried
With a “Hallelujah” and a couple of “Bout time”s
But her bones
Keep poking up
Through the grave
Calcium reminders of
What she had been
Splintered and rotting
From cocaine and gin
Intruding themselves
Into the bright fresh day
So fractured and crazed
They blow away to dust
Like those feelings of lust
Seen red-eyed in the morning
Through the holes
In the skull
Of the dead and buried
Party girl
Whose rib cage
Floats upward through the dust
To show the empty case
That held her heart
Dead and buried before her
In the grave next door
Capital
I feel CHAOTIC
You look POSSESSIVE
Let me buy you a drink
The gin will start us talking
And we’ll see if this can WORK
Can it bring home the BACON
Fry it up in a pan
Can it make you a MAN
Can it make an HONEST WOMAN
Outta me
Let’s think
And have another drink
On me
Cuz I feel less HOPELESS
And you look less HEARTLESS
Than you ever have before
Do you snore
Slip ice picks in BAD GIRLS
When you’re bored
With the WHINING
And the SIGHING
Tell me more
About yourself
And have
Another drink
As we sink
In a morass of love
