New Poem

Here's a new poem that I wrote today.

Crash

A plane crashes. The people all die.
Somewhere someone is loading
a gun. This is the end for many.
People sleep with nine irons
beside their beds.

Violence replaces love as the world
sleeps. We search for a drug
of choice. Something for the depression,
the mania. For now nicotine will do.

We are in the middle of nowhere.
There’s a gas station, a Wal-Mart
and a drug store, a McDonald’s.

We have too much time but really
it’s not enough because death
is at our heels.

That loaded gun
will do the job as that someone
takes his life, just a small dot
in the chasm of this racing
yet still world.


Any feedback would be appreciated.