my bunion aches when it's going to rain
I sit on the porch, buffing shotgun shells
making neat gleaming piles
of pent-up pain
to release, to release
when I see you again
I've been sitting here nursing my old, bad leg
from the kick that you gave me last time I called
I limped home from your house, next door
ten miles
when I felt well again, I went out with a smile
and I put up a sign at the gate, for you
saying: "TREPASSERS WELCOME!" big, black & white
but in smaller gray letters, of finest type -
"- neighbors beware: you'll be shot on sight"
No comments:
Post a Comment
Anything you have to say - question, critique, interpretation, praise or rebuke - is received with gratitude and interest.
If it looks like spam and contains a link, though, it will not be published. I will cherish it to myself, instead. Thank you!