by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
Do you want to take a ride to Heaven?
I’ll blast you right up there with my six-shooter.
They’ll hold a memorial with much pomp
and circumstance for you, all your friends and
family will be there too, showing their love.
Do you want to take that ride at high noon?
Your spirit will leave the body and despite
the gruesome way you’ll look your pain will
be gone, as your blood spills out of you,
and the life goes out of your eyes.
Do you want to make a choice? Do I have
to decide things for you? I aim to please
myself more than you. I could be bargained
with. Give me your sob story and maybe
we’ll take that ride together. I want to go too.
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