MONK WITH A RIFLE

Monk with a rifle
ran through my
room last night.
He didn't stop
didn't say anything.
I didn't stop him,
didn't say anything to him.
He had a real serious
look on his face
and his bald spot
glowed red.
I tried to get
back to sleep
and nearly made it,
but then a shot
rang out and I
heard a voice cry,
"Help me, I am
shooting stars!"
That explained it.
I reached into the
empty dresser drawer
and removed the
Gideon Bible
I knew was there.
Walked over and slid
open the window,
"Hey! hey pal. You better
read this again!",
and I tossed the book
down at him.
He whirled and nailed it
like he was skeet shooting,
holy verse firework
exploding in the
night air.
Well,
at least
I tried.


copyright 1997

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