Gunslinger

Oh, then some really blistering shit,
like when you step up and forward
and square off, toe in and toe out,
head slanted like a gun held high,
voice lowered and slowed
in a frozen skinned pace,
like a broken rail
and a soon to be colliding train,
all puffed up and swollen,
arms like legs,
and a stallion for a haircut.

Oh, damn,
you're gunna look good on my wall;
fucked up like Moses
with the Tablets all busted,
and then with the tables all laid just so,
the spread pushed up,
and the barrels all full,
the circus cuts through it,
and a trillion thoughts
take their last run across
the diameter of that cranium,
all dicked up
with its prideful glance,
falling into a pool
of missed messages
and hungry sensations.

Hmmmmm…
He simply didn't have
all those ducks in a row,
and broken fingers
make no plans.

runningturtle87