I shot him with a word


I shot him
my friend
I shot him with a word.
I shot my sinful friend with the F word.

No, I don’t mean
the banal ubiquitous four-letter one
glued to an –ing
placed before
that other one.
That other one,
That’s one I mean
the only one he’d hear or feel.
Yes, the six-letter one
the one that rhymes
with Maggot.

I shot him
my friend
I shot him with the word.
I shot my damned friend with the F word.

Obeying the commandment
I carried the word
sheathed in its cartridge
concealed in my heart,
its round hardness
rising and falling
to the beat of my blood
waiting in stealth
for that strayed soul.

I shot him
my friend
I shot him with the word.
I shot my lost friend with the F word.

Released from my mouth
like a bullet from a gun.
I watched his eyes
wide with fear
follow the trajectory
of the word
ricochet off the locker door
head like a heat-seeking missile
straight for his heart.
Watched the word
explode
shatter
blow him up
into a thousand little pieces.

I shot him for sure
I shot him with a word.
I shot down the evil-doer with the F word.
Right’s right and Wrong’s wrong
So forget that old crap about
sticks and stones and hard words and bones.