tagNon-Erotic PoetryGangsta-Mouth



He has spotted me. Talking
With his ears shut
He takes aim, fires
Words at me. His list of complaints
A litany of accusation.

He speaks in short, staccato
Bursts, like gunfire.
Shotgun syllables target
Captive ears. They strike, penetrate.
I'm the victim of a drive-by conversation.

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bycyravance© 0 comments/ 1941 views/ 0 favorites

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