spoils of rar by Magi Gibson

I am not a silent poet

you would have made a whore of her

the twelve year old girl

whose body you raped

in the name of the Caliphate

the twelve year old

with the tear-stained face you sold

for the price of a slap-up meal

and a flask of cheap wine

but really

you made a monster of yourself

and now you would make

a murderer of me

for if given a loaded gun

and a steady hand

how could I resist the urge

to satisfy my craving

to pump you full to pump you full

of silver bullets

deadly            hot         searing

                                   first published in Graffiti in Red Lipstick

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