Septon 3 Poem by RIC BASTASA
Septon 3
Rating: ★5.0
the man aims a gun at me
who knows his name? but i know his eyes
bland, and tasteless
it is not seeing for itself
it is dead as stone
whose slave are you?
it does not mind and i look
straight to the gut of the barrel
if it bursts, - i will say, thanks.
Monday, January 19, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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9/20/2024 4:32:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
