Fourteen Steps
To the left,
Seven to the right
Then stop!
The instructions
Were yelled
Over the crackling
Of the walkie talkie.
How low tech!
The walkie talkie
Was in the back pocket
Of my dead partner.
Rigor already setting in.
He wasn’t supposed
To have gone
On his own
But he was always
A stupid shit!
I looked around
Trying to figure out
What the game
This asshole was playing.
Then I looked down,
A red dot
Was an unwanted detail
On my plaid shirt.
Then a sharp pain.
I didn’t move
Fast enough
And blood was dripping
From my left arm.
He could have
Shot me before
But he wanted me
To see the dot.
Such an asshole!
Bullets whizzed by
The stone wall
I hid behind
And I waited
For him to reload.
I worked out
His location
By the projection
Of the bullets.
I already knew
The caliber of gun
By the bullets
Falling around me,
And I knew
How long
It would take
To reload.
Then silence.
I counted down
The reload time
As I crept to the
End of the wall.
I aimed
And as soon as
I saw the nozzle
Of the riffle
I shot one bullet.
Waste not, want not.
I sprinted
To the building,
Ducking and dodging
In case I missed.
I climbed up
The fire escape
And in no time
I was at the
Sniper’s window.
I pressed myself
Against the wall
To the right of the window.
Slowly I peeped in.
I got the sniper,
But he was she!
She was lying
On her back
But a revolver
Was in her hand
And it was pointed
At my heart.
“Surprised?!”
Blood trickled
Out of the corner
Of her mouth.
I said nothing.
I shot her.
She was too weak
To get off a round
And I knew
If I waited,
I would be the one
Found dead.
She was good.
She knew what
She was doing.
She was my ex-wife
And she was an asshole!
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1 comment:
Your poems are quite interesting
and this might be my fave
The ex wife with no shoe to fling
bullets instead she gave
Thank you for the wonderful poems :)
xoxo,
calisunshine
p.s.
come check out my blog sometime :)
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