Daddies Gun Poem by James McLain

On hands and knees, i stare through glass
so glazed of memories, inside.
It lays there, coiled safe inside pouched, leathers
scrotum, waiting to bark.
i cannot bring myself to unlock, the magic,
waiting to bleed across this, very short distance.
My hand lifts a violation, of all they who were
barked upon simply waiting
around coiled breath, a taste of metal coppers
breast.
i take the key again hipless, unlocking memories
best left in the hollow tube, unspent lest the bite
once again, render me blind, unable to taste.
Reaching through, into the warm fluid of safty,
i swallow gallons daily, while seeing bright flashes
often of you.
The loud report, is not news, it has been building, as
hurricanes do that never pass.
Hot searing foreign invisable, a punched hand drags
me out, expelled onto the floor, movement of feebility
unconsciously, tremored a last unasked breath, spent
awash,
in a small pool of blood between mums legs, blind...holed