high noon

i’m a gunslinger


ready to retire.

my pony is blind.

i have no time,

to share my pistol,

with virgins.

so he tied up his balls.

dropped to his knees.

straightened his tongue.

and recited my poems,

like the alphabet.

i made up words,

and licked them

from his lips.

my trigger finger,

lubed him

with a sonnet.

he had been used

before today.

i like ‘em like that.

bang, bang.

i filled him

with lead.

smiled above him,

i still have it.

i killed another poem.

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