Poetry

 
from Spring 2005 [Issue No. 6]

Why I Waved the Gun Around

Bruce McCandless


            

Like youíve never done it.

My ex has hired a competent lawyer.

Taxes.

Terrorists.

It needed some air.

I was drunk.

You were drunk.

The sky was filled with a menacing light.

At first I thought they were angels.

The decline of organized labor.

A dog lying dead by the side of the road.

It wasnít me.

Iím not myself.

My driveway keeps moving.

Why do you ask?


 

 

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