Times of Nonchalance By Jimmy Boom Semtex
Copyright 2014 Jimmy Boom Semtex. All rights reserved.
Only a single poem, paragraph or single photo maybe used for reviewing purposes. Credit Jimmy Boom Semtex as author.
ISBN: 978-1-291-77683-6
Only a single poem, paragraph or single photo maybe used for reviewing purposes. Credit Jimmy Boom Semtex as author.
ISBN: 978-1-291-77683-6
Derringer One
That oh so beautiful Derringer pistol was not just a gun. She was art. Silver chrome that shone in the lamp light. Engraved on the chrome were names of Wild West legends: Butch Cassidy and Sundance. They were here only a decade ago. Mother of pearl handle, white as desert bone. Her twin barrels, one above the other, were black as death. The .45 slugs in there had my name on them. My heart was breaking. They had done it! Why oh why oh why? Consigned me to the scrap heap. I was due to start a job making steam trains on Monday. They cancelled the contract and gave it to Germany. Their engineers were better. Damn this commercial economics! Damn them to hell! I picked up the beautiful Derringer pistol. Clicked back the hammer to full cock. And placed it in my mouth. The trigger pull was sensitive. Like me...
That oh so beautiful Derringer pistol was not just a gun. She was art. Silver chrome that shone in the lamp light. Engraved on the chrome were names of Wild West legends: Butch Cassidy and Sundance. They were here only a decade ago. Mother of pearl handle, white as desert bone. Her twin barrels, one above the other, were black as death. The .45 slugs in there had my name on them. My heart was breaking. They had done it! Why oh why oh why? Consigned me to the scrap heap. I was due to start a job making steam trains on Monday. They cancelled the contract and gave it to Germany. Their engineers were better. Damn this commercial economics! Damn them to hell! I picked up the beautiful Derringer pistol. Clicked back the hammer to full cock. And placed it in my mouth. The trigger pull was sensitive. Like me...
Two
I heard the wood fire crackling when I came to. I must have passed out. I didn't know where I was. Then I saw the pretty Derringer pistol and it came rushing back to me. I had used that same pistol to commit suicide. The Germans had stolen our steam train work. And I was broke, with no cash. This was a day after my fiancé, Amy, ran off with a cowboy. He was a real man. Six shooters, horse, leather saddle, tough as hell. Last of his kind. I had nothing except my job. So I used the gun. But why am I still here? Am I a ghost or wounded? I felt no pain nor saw any blood. I was unharmed. I should be dead. I reached down to pick it up...
I heard the wood fire crackling when I came to. I must have passed out. I didn't know where I was. Then I saw the pretty Derringer pistol and it came rushing back to me. I had used that same pistol to commit suicide. The Germans had stolen our steam train work. And I was broke, with no cash. This was a day after my fiancé, Amy, ran off with a cowboy. He was a real man. Six shooters, horse, leather saddle, tough as hell. Last of his kind. I had nothing except my job. So I used the gun. But why am I still here? Am I a ghost or wounded? I felt no pain nor saw any blood. I was unharmed. I should be dead. I reached down to pick it up...
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