January 13, 2018
Pinball thoughts, talk, break, start again.
Arguing to place in the correct aisle.
Readying for the silence that I pray never rears its buffalo sized cranium.
Charging to questionable gazing at 60 paces.
Guns cocked, preparing.
Go
No more waiting.
It’s done.
The grassed battle has been looped over to show once winners.
Disheveled and drawn out as loser.
Barrels slid into the boney canyon.
No more
Things are now.
Make it so.
Fuck your guns.
I’m not dead yet