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Flirting With The Firing Squad
bloated tongue, wretching gut
cringing painful shit spray
of yellow-livered cirrhosis amnesia
at $7.99 per 1.75 liter,
death by the swallow
self-induced
not-give-a-flying-fuck suicide
murdering memories and skeletons,
burning bridges
against the wall
no blindfold
no cig
wasn't thirsty
the sergeant said,
"ready, aim..."
i let one rip
right in their faces
as a sparrow flew by
and chirped before
lead poisoning set in
i smiled from
the other side,
several soldiers crossed
themselves
A lady teacher poet
wrote me recently
she felt
"There is something
deeper behind
your words
than shitting & fucking"
I thought
what could be deeper
than a big turd
Stuck up your ass
or a hard boner
buried to the nuts
The California vino
flowed that night
as I hammered out
more deep poetry.
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