Amerigun
What is it now, a most 40 years?Don’t think I’ve always missed you, sometimesI’ve forgotten you, you and your ,the ones Dad found in your apartment after you diedand dumped in Powell’s Cove—Why? When you told me you’d learnedyour lesson—but there are no lessonsfor , only more, we give themto toddlers, we love the troubledboys to have them for Christmas with the extrachamber you forgot about, didn’t emptyas you emptied the othersas you joked about shooting yourselfas you shot yourselfin front of your friendsyour lover whisperingin your ear, edging your scalpThat’s
