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Whether you believe it or not, my original arms dealer was a Buddhist. He armed me to the teeth with a desire to destroy the darkness of my teenage thoughts by firing bullets filled with ink into those wretched silhouettes, turning them into poetry. He sent me, filled past full with bluster and ******** to the mustiest den on Felix Street. But, I couldn’t stay. I hadn’t quite lived enough; I’d learned even less despite being so well weaponized. Instead, I’d find The Black Box, staying there until The Paper Moone would rise above my horizons and that large sergeant would offer me more ammo from the armory. We fired tracers down those alleys until the shells were all spent. We pause now to reload. The Buddhist’s ordinance is expended. Little has changed despite everything being different than it was when we first met. Now, the firing range is nested by Thunderbirds. We are well-armed. *** - JBClaywell © P&ZPublications; 2017
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Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 1:44 PM UTC
My Original Arms Dealer Was a Buddhist (For Mr. Kelley)
Whether you believe it or not, my original arms dealer was a Buddhist. He armed me to the teeth with a desire to destroy the darkness of my teenage thoughts by firing bullets filled with ink into those wretched silhouettes, turning them into poetry. He sent me, filled past full with bluster and ******** to the mustiest den on Felix Street. But, I couldn’t stay. I hadn’t quite lived enough; I’d learned even less despite being so well weaponized. Instead, I’d find The Black Box, staying there until The Paper Moone would rise above my horizons and that large sergeant would offer me more ammo from the armory. We fired tracers down those alleys until the shells were all spent. We pause now to reload. The Buddhist’s ordinance is expended. Little has changed despite everything being different than it was when we first met. Now, the firing range is nested by Thunderbirds. We are well-armed. *** - JBClaywell © P&ZPublications; 2017
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jay-claywell
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jay-claywell
45/M
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 1:44 PM UTC
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