Spend Saturday mornings cleaning
from first light until noon,
so you'll suffer no distractions
for the rest of the day,
as you grasp at those missing
somethings
which make Saturday mornings
spent cleaning
pointless.

Lower your eyes and look
at all the soft words.
Love, and soul, and yearn.
What intolerable fluff.

Now swivel your neck and catch
a glimpse of roaring life.
Fight, then flee, then ****.
What undeniable luck.

We stood wide-legged
shoulder to shoulder
behind the firing line.
Pop pop pop.
The gentleman to our left
hopped up, alarmed,
"My ear! Something hit my ear!"
There was no blood.
Nothing at all.
He looked a question at us,
still ******* his earlobe,
no blood on his fingers.
"Not us. Our brass ejects to the right."
He let it drop,
packed his gear,
and left.

I carry a pistol
because you never know
about folks who don't
carry pistols.

I carry a tune
because you never know
about folks who don't
carry tunes.

I carry thoughts
because you never know
about folks who don't
carry a thought.

I carry a universe

because I haven't found
a safe place to keep it.