R.J. Bevans


No Target. Still Shootin’.

Poem by R.J. Bevans

A something snapped in my efferent neck sunaptein.
My heady, blood-lubbin’ sparks,
Up-in the marked vein on the jugular left,
Hurtme a half-hand down my vertical throat.
This current that charged then charged!
The isolated, instant “ow! ”
Nervous potential-passed;
Realized without my permission. Not okay.
Not yes-painful
But irksome, zee-literal, potent jerk.

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Edgar Allan Poe

Annabel Lee



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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 25, 2004