
a bullet in
the back of the head
freshly Clinton'd
the nothing the feel
the nothing that’s real
modern art becomes
statistical gunshot spatter
suffocation
drowning in the open air
that final shortness of breath
a rattle a rasp
that very last gasp
strumming a small harp
on a big cloud at last
dying in your sleep?
now what are the odds of that
a coupla snores and then nothing
nothing but the great beyond
this is not glorification
mused reflection and edification
just getting down what i know
and i'm wondering what i will reap
because i didn't know what to sow
so now you see my course is set
please let my aim be true
this is not a shot in dark
this is nothing new
this is not a course of action
thus is not a plan
this is not a love song
this is because i can
this is not a goodbye dirge
nothing like that at all
this is not a siren song
nor a call to the gods
i could get hit by a car tomorrow
this is all about the odds
About the Creator
Bren
"It's just a token of my extreme!" - Frank Zappa
"Cause it's all in the heat of the moment It's all in the pain!!!" - Devin Townsend
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler


Comments (3)
Wow, amazing work!
Oo, I really liked the rhythm of this one. Beautiful poem!
It took me a second to put together the connection of "bullet in the back of the head" and "freshly Clinton'd." That's pretty amusing. I don't know if you coined that or if it's become a thing, but it's a great acknowledgment of the obvious. Suicides can't shoot themselves in the head twice, unless they travel in certain circles. ;)