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Seated
at coffee shop,
talking with soldier
from NRA;
assumed name.
Preached about
how pious
Adolph Hitler was,
knew John Lennon
from album cover,
sold marijuana
in shotgun shells.
One eye discolored,
packed with gunpowder,
lies in wait
for federal agents.
Under floorboards
coins of platinum,
detonator filled
coffee cans,
doorbell primed;
fuse stitched to
sleeve of
confederate uniform.
If he wasn't so monastic
Iran would have him
Iraq would have him
just to blow him up
U.S. government
spit him out;
tasted like crap.
Putty man laughs
as he
beds down
at the halfway house,
Swishhh...
listen to the air
rush out
from the tire
between his shoulders.
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