Bad Bullets
A life of beats and bullets
Them dry old bones rattle by
All held together in a grey suit
On down the road and right out of time
With Neal, Jack and Allen
And only freedom to fear
All shooting from the hip
Down in Tangier
With his cane and his hat
And his awkward spider gait
His slow insect drawl
Precise and deliberate
The years ghost by
In an old man's frame
Invisible to his neighbours
He passed in shades of grey
6th Jan 2015
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