C Jay Caputo


How Suicide Works 2


I walk in to a gun shop
The clerk greats me nicely with a smile
I say
'I'm in the business of getting a new hand gun my good sir.'
He hands me a beauty,
Silver gloss, it glistened

I asked what bullets it shot
I was handed 45's
I took one out and popped open the cylinder
'You cant do that in here.' said the nice clerk
'Its okay I'm gunna buy it.' as I popped in a bullet
closed the cylinder, took the safety off,
turned it to my face as if to inspect the barrel.

I pulled the trigger.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Topic of this poem: suicide


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