Flung Guns

After the shoot-outs
at that rinky-dink casino
in sun-baked Bakersfield,
and that lil’ ol bank
in San Bernadino,
they were runnin’
for their lives.

Hopped up on adrenaline
they made a bee-line
for Tijuana.
Ted used some Jackie D in the glove-box
to kill the pain
where that slug plugged him
just above the knee.
He yelled, Pull ‘er over
right here!
They stood on the
bridge for a spell,
tasting their lives
on the tips of their tongues.
Then one of ’em
flung his gun in the Rio Grande,
and the other followed suit.

‘Course, they weren’t
as clever as they thought.
Sheriff on their tail,
and they never worried ’bout
ditchin’ the car—
didn’t get too far afore
they was ‘cuffed and clinked.

Can’t help but think
’bout all them other guns
must still be sunk in the drink
somewheres.

Kathleen Mortensen @2016

If you enjoyed this poem, here’s another you might like: BAD LOVE

*Just some wacky thoughts after watching one of my all-time favourite films, “Charley Varrick” with Walter Matthau. Hadn’t seen it in decades and I’d forgotten just what a great flick it is. (The above scenario is almost entirely out of my own head.)

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2 thoughts on “Flung Guns

  1. Pingback: New Home – Poetikat Unbound

  2. Pingback: New Home | My Life In Runes …

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