Have Gun, Will Use It

Have Gun, Will Use It

Policemen ride ramrod tall
on their steeds
in great flawed cities;
praise their tack, their spurs,
the terrible shine off their brass,
their badge and buckle,
the polished hilt of their pistol;
and try valiantly not to be shit on,
or become an obstacle,
or raise the twitchy ire of that
Paladin in dark glasses,
that protector with no eyes—
for his arm can be swift
and his weapon can spit lead
like a pissed-off cobra.

Remember
a ballet of bullets
is a poor choice for
dance of the day.

Glenn Buttkus May 2010