Call Waiting

she’ll die tomorrow

–gun in hand

hand that guided


before pistol,


before dolor,


before pain,

that hand will trigger

an end game

she can…ah…live with


–Russian Roulette

grown tiresome.


Loading every

monkey in that barrel,

she’ll cry rough

–for the last time–

punch buttons

to bells

to voice mail unheard


she’ll die tomorrow

(all over again)


gun in hand.

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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