Though I'm no Freudian
I must admit that there
is something incredibly verile
about being strapped to a gun
It's leather holster
—so supple to the touch
It's not that I like guns
or necessarily police officers.
It's just—a gun, an actual
gun. Right there.
If your face were splayed
and tanned, I'd love it.
Just as surely as the nose
of an 80's convertible—arrow-like—
is a weapon too. It's not strapped
to you. And has no case to call it's own.
I'm willing to accept that
this all is the result of movies.
