Your First Bloody Death...

¡Hola! Everybody...
Still here, still writing. Still laughing at the Village Idiots... LOL

I’m being told by weathermen, some of whom apparently don’t believe the scientific consensus around global warming, that it’s the last weekend of winter. I can almost smell the shaving cream!

* * *

Now [no. 14]

Your trust, once owned,
oozed out of a bullet-hole
in your pretty back
and once gunned down
is enough for anyone.

Your first bloody death was funny
but your second would be foolish.

So a seasoned gunfighter
lives within you.

You sit only with your back
against the wall
and face the open door
when you love.

A twitching hand rides high
above your oiled holster,
riding low on your hip,
and you wait only for
another stranger
to ride into your lonely town.