Sunday, October 16, 2016


a floating gun spelled your face in the wake
a knotted gun spit and sank in the soup
a flowered gun closed its eye and slept
a misty gun named a bee and circled
a throated gun chewed the dice and understood
a mirror gun opened the fridge and coughed
a tower gun lay on the floor and swirled
a wooden gun splintered and burned in the attic
a liquid gun shaped your leg and ran
a written gun folded a shirt and belched
a paginated gun shit on a sheet flapping in wind
a boiled gun opened the door to shed its skin
a nasal gun was turning its knob and singing
a suit of gun plundered the closet full of ash
a tree of gun counted a bird in the sky
a frozen gun thought of an exploding glass of beer
a voice of gun crawled over the floor and
                             talked to the shoes under the bed


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