The Last Hit

On the rowdy, raucous, Californian road, I found his shutterd store, selling guns, tobacco and more, and the man came out in a brown cockroach-coat and said, "can I help you?" "I need a forty five and shells," I said, "Well I,ve got a twenty two with mercury tips," he replied, "OK," I said, "that'll do I'll try," and when I'd loaded it, I pointed it straight at his eye; and he gasped and told me, "not the face, it wouldn't be right," and he took it thru his brown cockroach- coat and heaving-breathing lungs; and when the round came out, with the truth, and spraying blood and greed; it stopped on the faded calendar behind; right on today's date; and I wondered why and I wondered why? and then the radio sang out; "my oh my what a wonderful day!" and I ran out into the black and white sirened-street, and the police aimed their guns, and lies at my summer coat, and Honolulu summer shirt; and as their bullets spurted thru, and lifted my feet off the startled-starling lazy street, I quickly sang; "my oh my what a wonderful day!"