Dave

“Dave...”

“Put down the gun.”

“I mean really.”

“Put down the fuckin’ gun!”

“You’re fucking high!”

“Just put the fuckin’ gun down!”

He’s waving it all over the place.

I don’t know whether it’s loaded
Or not...
Which is making me nervous.

That
And the fact
That Dave is lit out of his mind.

I’ve been around guns.

They’ve always made me edgey.

Everybody seems trigger happy.

High or not.

Put a gun in their hand
And they’re GOD
But they get all dopey
And low level stupid
About it.

Like now.

I’m pleading with a first blood Indian
To put down a fucking gun
And he’s waving a quite possibly loaded one
Around in the swampy night air.

“Dave...”

“Put the gun away.”

“I’m not amused by this shit!”

“I don’t know where in hell that gun has been!”

I just know
That he is out of his mind
At this moment
And the bullets
If there are any
Will fall
Like dice
At a crap table.

And I never said
“Please”.