Kurt

He got
what
he wanted,
loser -
fame,
fortune,
fuck.
It's easy,
but he dies
in the light of dawn
with that hound
on his trail.
Light bites
like devil fangs -
help him, somebody,
lock him up,
tie him down,
free him from fate,
a life looping
over and over
until he slips
through dusk
into night.
He remembers
he didn't buy bullets
for that gun.