Month: July 2005

there are four men inside of me
and they are always at war.
the boys drink their whisky and
plug big round red holes of hate
in each oth­er. when they get
low on ammo they patch each oth­er
up, pass around the bot­tle and
take pot­shots at passer­by.
after awhile they make enough
to go buy some more ammo and
whisky. when they leave I run
out and pick up the shells.
if I hold one up to my ear
some­times I hear me whis­per­ing.
(more…)