I love those angry lone gunmen,
samurai, snipers, vigilante sheriffs,
rogue cops, ex-cops, ex-alcoholic cops,
ex-cons, ex-CIA agents, ex-FBI agents,
ex-hit men, ex-pilots, ex-assassins,
avenging the death of a daughter, mentor, sensei,
lover, police force partner,
or delivering justice just plain pissed off,
with buffed, beefed, ridiculously ripped
biceps, triceps, six packs, bare chests, and big pecks
glistening with sweat,
wearing ripped jeans and leather jackets,
army jackets, black belts, and red headbands,
steel toed cowboy boots, silver studded biker boots,
badass black army boots,
toting around ballistic bazookas, droves of dynamite,
majestic missile launchers, fabulous fervid flame-throwers,
swords, shurkens, shotguns, machineguns, laser guns,
rifles, machetes, mines, blasters, bombs, nukes, ninja stars,
and grenades, or getting by with one touch deadly death grips,
delivering Buddhist one-liners like
“See you in hell!”
“Make my day!”
amidst exploding islands and offices,
tanks erupting like blood from bullet soaked bodies.
Pick ups, jeeps, Cadillacs, and Corvettes
careening crossroads, back roads, intersections down hill,
up hill, up mountains, “Up yours!”
the driver’s finger flashing the police in hot pursuit
during a getaway relay on a highway, freeway, or runway
till one or fifty cars flip, skip, pile up, and erupt
like a stubborn bag of popcorn, buttery and golden.
Then it’s back to his place with that Russian correspondent babe,
badass bitch babe, hotter than hell hooker babe,
recovering addict babe, witness protection babe,
nice waitress babe, single mother babe,
sultry soprano lounge singer babe,
to have steamy sweaty sexist sex,
blatant sex, fast sex, sex in the fast lane,
sex in bedrooms, bathrooms, steam rooms,
starcruisers, spacecruisers,
spas, pools, log cabins, tents,
moonlit, sunlit, unlit, cars, bars, back alleys, and beaches.
Until that high noon, end of the world,
5-4-3-2-1 countdown to destruction show down
with a duel of bullets and bimbos in a downtown Detroit car lot
or a steel blade clashing, fist bashing, kung-fu kickass climax,
on a bridge, ledge, catwalk, rooftop, crossbeam, highbeam,
rapid stream, cliffside, seaside, abandoned factory,
mining city on Mars, Pluto, or some other star spangled solar system,
with crime syndicates, world terrorist organizations,
weapons smugglers, drug overlords,
corrupt cops, corrupt army officials,
or neo-ninja clans on Java, Bali, Mali, Hong Kong,
or some other tropical hideout
manufacturing or stealing
stealth bombers and high tech helicopters,
the enemy demanding,
“Put the gun down or the girl dies”
only to get blown away, blasted, skewered, stabbed,
decapitated, disemboweled,
or pushed into that fatal free fall,
smashing onto sea shores, spikes, spires,
rocks, fire pits, lava pits, or acid pits,
all so can I watch that end of the script
big long lead into the credits kiss
filling me with the possibility
that I too can save the world
cradling a cigar and a blonde
No comments yet.