A Killing: The Gun Shop Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I go inside
Asked the clerk
To give me his finest:
I am going to
Make a killing tonight

I told the man
In a burly, robust voice
And the man's eyes
Glinted in fascination
Some guy he is
I heard him tell
The other clerk.

I soldered my gun
To the loins of my valor
I slowly waited for the night
And so I poured that drink
Upon glass - glass after glass
After glass and I just grew
A lionized heart.

My pals were astonished,
They never had guns.
They only had their arms
And they used it in fist-fights
And bar-brawls.
Is this going to make him pay?
I heard my good friend ask me,
He was talking about the fool who
Smashed a bottle of liquor on the
Window of my car;
He's going to get it, I'm going to make
A killing.

And if you have ever felt yourself stern
In the middle of the madness,
That is where you do unimaginable things.
I started my car, closed the door
Fastened myself to the leathery seat
My friends wishing me good luck and
Perhaps, execute it cleanly.
I stepped on the gas, my car roaring its machinism
So loud that if muffled the sound
Of my gun, the caliber of the gods
As I shot it across my temple.

I made a killing,
And it was superbly done.