CN: Themes of Suicide
The revolver misfired today. I don’t know
why, maybe the spark
of the love for life
ignited and ate the oxygen
with it’s largeness
or maybe my lyric spirit
snapped and cracked
and snuffed out the charge.
Or else I rammed the ammunition
in too clumsily and the cartridge jammed.
Maybe the bullet is just gestating
for the right moment.
The revolver will misfire again
tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
until it won’t.
But for now I’m still here
wearing out my throat strings
on the lover’s quarrel.
I’m not for detonations
by a deserted road.
I’ll just walk it instead,
I like the dead track.
The world’s heart on my back,
a ram’s head on my ear,
I’m still here.
