as if we knew
what we were doing
when we came to this life

Fractured with time
bloodied from the battering
of astral calamity

Shotgun-like verse
pours from our empty sidewalk
pharmaceutical- scrambled brains

"why not, I'll try it
nothing else has been able to
terminate me with any kind of Glory"

Some kind of apocalyptic tombstone
prose would be a nice accoutrement to
a life well riddled with outlaw
markings