Keep your voice at the level of
Monastary; volume of
Clouds.
Let sleeping men lie.
When my knuckles turn
White around the wheel,
For God's sake shhh; I have  
A fuse of gasoline, diesel
In my gut and veinfulls of
Nitro.
The first thing the explosion
Kills, is the bomb.

You don't need gloves
To handle me; it's me
Your touch
Hurts.
It's my turn this morning.
I'm a porcupine with its
Fur on inside
Out.