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forty five calibre obsession
wash the cuts with iodine, and
lick the wounds with a loving tongue
-watch me, pull out my smith and wesson
literary gun
(cop killer bullets)
we outnumber you six to one.
pull the trigger,
watch the ink crash
like a wave upon the paper
curses inflict flesh wounds
imminent silence follows soon,
the smoke from the barrel
creates a world
for us both to get lost in
kiss a wind to storm away a world
watch my target swim in a pool of red.
come, we're gonna go rob a madness
down, on the south side of town.
kill a theocracy, kill the 'i' in 'we'
lets have a little fun.
