ABSURDISM

I have a reoccurring dream that my feet
Are targets at a carnival shooting gallery.
Only person paying to play is me
I always hit the target and congratulate myself with screams
All the teddy bears that hang there are missing ears
Their eyes as wide from the surprise of being sodomized
Demoralized, I take my spoils with blood their soiled
And continue to wander the grounds
Each booth I hobble up to has a sign reading
“Is this right for you? If so will the inner self please laugh like a fool”
“How do you do” wickedly smiles a distrustful bamboozler
Who hands me an entrenching tool and a carbine too
He says, “The choices are two,
A tomb for your bed and self administer a bullet in your head or,
Just keep digging and we’ll supply the dead”
I question, “Will I get to shoot?” he replies, “Only if they beg”
That moment I remember all the times to god I plead
From my hands bled Psalms of a wedding and funeral
Both are tribunals held in the big top
I confess, I confess, I confess
They shoot me out the meat grinder, no net to catch my fall
With whips that command, told to stand on the ball
Lion tamer feeds me shit and I regurgitate clowns
Who are Babushka dolls of my ego
I gather myself as the crowd heckles
While I embellish my wounds
Cock back my revolver and take aim at my feet