Peachy keen

Peppered shots ring throughout the air.

Shotgun to the left

Revolver on the right.

Who know they slobbering bone sacks

Could pull a trigger

And work to reload.

Then again

Who knew I’d be here?

Stuck between ‘brain breath’

And ‘hell on ice’.

All I can do is shrug now

And hope I last the night.

Only three clips left.

And a few hundred thousand

Rabid

Zombie

Kenyans.

This is gonna turn out

Peachy.

Reviews

[Steven Hicks]

Rabid, Zombie, Kenyans...I love it. XD

[Joe]

I like this poem. Very nice word choice. Great job! Keep it up!