deepundergroundpoetry.com

I Rest My Case, Your Worship.

 
 
This is my final testimony, presented to the court.  


 
We drove a car home  
walked into a house  
dressed in clothes  
ate food, drank grouse  
 
Both of their jokes  
sucked bad, as they could  
leaving audiences gasping  
worse than crickets would  
 
He stood at the door  
with a Garfield's grin  
she peered in the window  
looking ridiculously thin  
 
He pulled out a gun  
aimed, squeezing the trigger  
she threw knives at his  
loud, anorexic figure  
 
A bullet went past  
fetching sweat from my face  
a blade stole a hair as it  
flew above head-space  
 
He fell to the floor  
in a pool of red blood  
she crumbled in pain  
landing in the flash flood  
 
I froze in the ice  
looking left, then right  
wondering if I had  
seen that slow-motion fight  
 
Truth is your worship  
try as I might  
I can't tell who died first  
that ice cold, night  
 
 
 
 
-x-
 
 
 
RevolutionAL
Author's Note
All people have limits, sadly me included.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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