Bullets

Then one day the kid said to the old man,
“Sometimes I think we’re the sane person.”
And the elder thought, “Hmmm…”
Then one day the father told the son,
“At times I am struck to think that we inhabit the same space.”
And then one day…

A chap standing over in a differently lighted area
yesterday stated that hearing men “speak for god”
was like seeing a pimple scream for mercy.

Just behind the system over there, just as they were closing for the year,
I overhead this one young philosopher with no volume control explain,
“Boy, if my brain cells wanted to travel as badly as do my spermatozoa,
my mind would have an erection that would make steel tremble and pussy willow.”

 

If you’re not compatible with your own aim,
what chance have you got?

 

At last, if not actually truth in advertising, and at least a little of it
around the edges in regards to a new book which claims to be the
“Ultimate Read For Those Who Long For The ‘Good Old Days’”
and whose each page contains an engraved bullet.

 

J.

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