a duet by Steve Calamars

hemingway played
a 12-gauge
like a trumpet

lips wrapped
around the barrel
cheeks inflated
like dizzy gillespie

he blew a solo
of buckshot and
brain-parts all over
empty white walls

times have changed
but not really that much

i now cling to a glock
instead of a shotgun

i punch the keys
of a laptop
instead of a
typewriter

i too strive for
sparse prose and
poems clean as
erector-sets

and i routinely
squeeze the trigger
of an empty gun

perfecting my technique
and warming up
my fingers

preparing to
close my eyes
gather my will
and play a duet

vulgar as a bull fight-

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I like this poem very much. The sparseness, clarity of thought and detail are wonderful.

Joseph Hargraves

Nobius said...

Wow. This one is excellent. A duet...

Scary.

Maria Gornell said...

Stellar write. Love this.

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Black-Listed Magazine is an online literary magazine. We publish on a rolling basis: weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Send submissions here: blacklistedmagazine@hotmail.com

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