trigger points;
Most people can up and get a gun.
It doesn’t take rocket science to see
Why that bothers me, much like it
Doesn’t take catalytic conversion
To note the presence of an engine.
I looked at statistics from multiple
Sources, probably 400 million or so
At gun shows, in shops, and in black
Markets today, give or take what the
Pentagon has augmented toward
Production, what the NRA has lobbied
For, or what Uncle Sam needs to peddle
Out to take inches off the deficit; etc.
Three cheers for sweet animosity. Three
Cheers for a paying marker—“I’ll take the
Money and the wallet, please, I know you
Have a holy war to fight…”
“…With the Saudis, with the Iranians,
With the Jews or Russians.”
9mm dicks on all these folks
That think buzzing bullets through
Brains beats the buzz words of common
Sense. Doesn’t cost enough, I guess;
Doesn’t do enough damage.
Doesn’t equal occupation or force or
Idealism. Doesn’t equal immediate
Change. Or fear.
Fear.
That costs a metric fuck-ton.
(And we won’t mention the causal/non-
Causal shootings at bowling alleys and
Breakfast bars and in classrooms.)
Tell me you’re duck hunting,
I’ll tell you the duck deserves to live.
Tell me you’re deer hunting,
And I’ll tell you the deer should frolic
And live and play and live.
And live.
And live.
This, coming from the man who occupies
A house with six guns: a Glock 17, a
Glock 42, a Smith & Wesson M&P 9,
A Walther PPS—for combat,
A PPK—for pretending.
And the big boy, the .45 caliber Beretta
That would make even the longest-dicked
Fucker feel pulseless in their pants.
None are mine and none are my style,
But all are loaded and ready for a parade
Of assailants to kick in the doors.
That seems to be what people are hunting
For, eh? Probability of use. The Wild West
Has been innovated, and guess what?
Despite all of the firepower, I never
Swallowed a barrel or bullet once;
I’ve never been interested in cleaning up
Gunpowder residue, or more importantly,
Having someone clean up after me.