• This morning I dressed with violence and
    lit a cigarette, waiting for morning
    coffee. I glare, a literal stare
    to brew the coffee by sheer force of will.
    Hot black hell brew to match my hot black mood.
    Looking at the calendar and counting
    the remaining days of bad decisions,
    I rip off two months; toss the wasted time
    into the trash. Pull out the gun and spin
    the wheel. Wonder what the weather's going
    to be as the barrel touches temple.
    Walk outside, don't ask the weathermen, look
    up at the sky and pull the trigger.