Whoo- hoo

There’s a dance of bullets goin’ on,
pings on the sidewalk and all.
A ballet!
Performed, with an accompanying light show,
pure dinner theature.

I want in.
I want to blow out a case of ammunition,
take a bit of plaster out of the walls,
break a window or two,

To whirl blindly,
and squeeze her off.
Who cares if ya hit anything,
the people moved out years ago.


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Filed under Outlaw poetry, poetry

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