Poetry: The Trust You Once Owned...

Hola mi Gente,

So, as I was preparing this post, the news that senior Supreme Court Justice, Antonin Scalia, died of natural causes this morning. I don’t know who it was that said that one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I hope that if there’s a hell, there’s a special place in it for him (preferably roasting on a spit). 

Yeah, I’m bad, shoot me… 

Today it’s about poetry and this is one of mine written so long ago. It was inspired by one of the loves of my life.

* * *

Now [no. 14]

The trust you once guarded,
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 well-oiled holster,
riding low on your hip,
and you wait only for
another stranger
to ride into your lonely town.

* * *

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization…