No Target. Still Shootin’.
A something snapped in my efferent neck sunaptein.
by R.J. Bevans
My heady, blood-lubbin’ sparks,
Up-in the marked vein on the jugular left,
Hurtme a half-hand down my vertical throat.
This current that charged then charged!
The isolated, instant “ow! ”
Realized without my permission. Not okay.
But irksome, zee-literal, potent jerk.