magnum by splake

city limits fading
rearview mirror shadows
easy quiet miles
early morning darkness
memory drifting back
late night years ago
brain-skull cavity numb
cheap old milwaukee suds
holding .357
remembering scary stories
others saying
“violent recoil
smashed the gun in his face”
carefully squeezing trigger
fiery barrel explosion
red line of poetry
aimed toward heaven
killing god
wounding angel or two
scattering milky way
this morning
testing ancient gun
insuring no malfunction
like empty hammer click
moment of truth
when seriously needing
holy ticket to ride
trip to new reality
standing besides brautigan creek
trailhead start to cliffs
aiming at distant trees
“no not now”
fatal ricochet mistake
smith-wesson exploding
earth shaking tremor
poor rock gravel
moving beneath my feet
suddenly head
feeling full of cotton
silently thinking
“eh eh eh
can’t hear anything”
in blurry first dawn
of other writers
alone and unloved
lost in mind-fuck depression
also knowing
when words vanish
nothing else remains
except final goodbye
existential poetic adieu
randall jarrell
walking into car
north carolina highway
weldon kees
leaping off
san francisco
golden gate bridge
lew welch
leaving gary snyder’s cabin
california mountains
with 30-30 rifle
body never found
brother brautigan rotting
bolinas west coast apartment
now trout fishing
absaroka mists
dreaming of ianthe
watermelon sugars
old papa hem
dazed vacant stare
sawtooth mountains too close
toes in shotgun triggers
young beloved adriana
patiently waiting
somewhere across the river
david foster wallace
putting rope around his neck
hanging himself
while faithful canine companions
“bella” and “warner”
not understanding
truth finally setting him free
my .357 magic
warm and smoky
field tested
ready to go
passing single bullet agony
hot violent end
some time
not far away
when failure and decay
reach beyond my life
erasing new poem

6 Responses to “magnum by splake”

  1. Carter Monroe Says:

    It’s always great to see new work by the graybeard. Excellent piece here.


  2. Linda Lerner Says:

    Good disturbing poem. I especially like the lines, “also knowing
    when words vanish
    nothing else remains
    except final goodbye
    existential poetic adieu”

  3. Damn fine poem by a damn fine poet.

  4. Robert M. Zoschke Says:

    Always soul stirring and intellectually satisfying to read some new TKS Prophecy from The Splakester.

  5. I’ve missed your words, Splake. Good one.

  6. Denis Robillard Says:

    Reading Splake in the morning. Better than any breakfast cereal around!

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