I can tell from looking in your eyes
you will skin me alive
if I keep secrets from you.
I think about all the ways
I am the target
of your paranoid marksmanship.
Of course there is shouting
when we use vodka to fuel
our lamps.
At least while you are drunk
your aim is poor
and I can run to the river.
And there I may dive in
to join the other surviving fish
with hooks cut from their mouths.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 