these are but a few impressions of pain   

Now you talk I’m losing my voice

It does get old

If you change your mind let me know

Up Yours

I’m in the book

What if it’s the guns, stupid

The way we do things

These are only words      you too have penitentiary potential

We may meet in a steel mirror
          behind rows of Amaranthus and vortices of razor wire

What are you looking at screamed the perp’s sister
          after the verdict was in

          kicking the tires of the victim’s kin

How do you get rid of dirty chi
          Once and for all
          Ask Jeeves

A case of late-afternoon hysterics

Hopelessness against hopelessness

A woman is better in the gun tower than a man
less hesitant       they say       to shoot a man on the run

Think upwards

It’s too hot

One last word: