whatshouldwecallpoets

Flight

Let the engine roar and fly down the highway, 

fast as you can, like you are a soldier overseas 

and your wife is waiting back home with her hands 

spread open and her body put on hold for you. 

Pretend the pills are just pain killers and 

swallow them, blink. If it looks like water 

you should be able to gulp it down like such. 

Bullet shots, take them down, one by one, 

back to back. Don’t think of your mother. 

The world is rated R. No one checks your ID 

before you walk out the doorstep into the dark, 

into the dim streets. Alcohol for us is illegal and war isn’t, 

but I would take drinking over grenades any day. 

Basements are better than battlefields. 

When the urge to kill hits you, turn the lights off 

and drink. When violence comes smashing 

through your fingertips, grip the steering wheel 

and drive down the highway, fast as you can.