AS A CHILD
as a child, you
wrote poetry
a form of liberation, if
not the very weapon of it
something poetic
about that
curved magazine
the brilliance of
its rugged simplicity
thing of
wood
and metal
Garand and
Sturmgewehr, you
delivered us
their love child
Tarantino’s Samuel L.
telling us
in Jackie Brown
this is
the perfect amalgam of
voice and
rhythm
absolutely essential
when you need
to clear
a whole room
and when you passed
word went out about
your deep
regrets at having
created this
sublime artifact of
deadly engineering
left us
if not with a song then
your signature
tune, and
from your grave,
that distinctive sound marking
the death
of Empires, release from
burdens
and then the legend
buried beneath that good
Russian earth
if they
were to raise you, disinterr
you
chamber
the first round
would
you fire
from the beginning always
a poet of fire
