Clean: An Anthology

A Twenty-First Cenutry Murder Ballad

god, he hated her.
he hated everything she stood for,
little tiny five inch volleyball shorts
and a pistol whipped boyfriend in glasses.
the things she said, the things she believed
ran counter to his world, the a masculine perfection
of his imagination.
and so he pulled out a gun of his own,
ejected the magazine like he ejected his conscience
clicked it back in, hands shaking, and disengaged
the safety, knowing there was no going back.