Screw the rules of engagement.
Focus on target acquisition.
Fix range and bearing.
Estimate windage.
Calculate time on target.
Battery away.
Commence fire.
Volley after volley.
Shot after shot.
Insult after insult.
Snide remark follows snarky jab.
Brutal comeback lands with a jolt.
Gas-lit accusations trip the NBC alarm.
F-bombs. C-words. Total devastation.
Just a typical conversation
Over no man’s land in the family room.
In a time of love and war,
All casualties are blue on blue.
Categories:
windage, allegory, marriage, relationship,
Form: Prose Poetry
Bang! My lips turn down to frown
Windage and elevation, it didn’t feel right
Turning the turrets, two left and two down
Minute of angle accommodating my sights
Both eyes open and steady hands
Acquire the target and slow the heart
Breathe, and lets the bags of sand
Steady the path as the bullet departs
Still high and right, the target would say
Turn left and down adjustments are made
Bang, and another shot on the way
Near center circle, the lead had been laid
Now the world was leaving my vision
The target grew bright, in focus and clear
The shot required not a single decision
No hesitation or thinking, no doubt and no fear
And just for a moment, I was alone
No thoughts or distractions, no notice of the world
No intrusion for me, immersed in the zone
Laser precision about to be hurled
Bang, the shot rang clarity clear
Point of aim and impact are justified now
Slowly I come back to those who are near
They never knew I was gone anyhow
Maybe engrossment, or perhaps a trance
It’s hard to discern what is what
Just like the dancer is really the dance
I am the shooter - I am the shot
Categories:
windage, adventure, lost, solitude,
Form: Rhyme
If you heard a Soup Censor holler
They just saw a Cook Islands dollar
Allowing for windage
That Tiki appendage*
Could incite a 9-1-1 caller!
* Gershon-approved, i.e., circumcised
Is that sufficient evidence
the Lost Tribes of Israel
were on a Cook-out?
Categories:
windage, humor,
Form: Limerick
Had to recover from three days of Kentucky windage
Jerked the protein from an omelette full of old spinach
Rippled titans in my wake, ‘cause they ain’t losin’
I’m still losin’, ‘cause my storm’s passed, but I’m still oozin’
My Brother’s thirsty, but I wouldn’t share my water with him
Connect said “no coupons”, so I had to leave my daughter with him
Then I sobered, raised the Taurus, let the slaughter him
Caught him slippin’ at the steak house, gettin’ a porter in him
How many blasts, ‘til infamy
How many boasts, ‘fore real goons run down—get with me
How much belief ‘bout bein’ bulletproof
Before hollow toads bend the left corner—croak out the truth
Incognito now, cause a n—— shaved his beard off
Po’-Po’ still starin’, so I guess I ain’t shake the weird off
You see, depression is a tomb stone, and you walk with it
Eastern NC, to DC, back to New York with it
I found a new mouthpiece, and it’s wet, so I’ma talk with it
Heater stays racked, so I won’t ever balk with it
Chewy breads, with the cheese creamed in it
Three white crosses peer from across the street
Categories:
windage, addiction, america, angst, anxiety,
Form: Free verse