Gun Play Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Gun Play in the Meat Locker

At the bottom in the Mexican bay rests a 22 calibre pistol,
it is in a box and the box is in a plastic bag that moves
with the tide; the gun was mine I had bought it in Galveston.
I had been obsessed with firearms lately, needed a shooter
but didn´t want to buy one bulky cannon difficult to hide,
it was easy to purchase came in a box six bullets included.
Back on board and with trembling hands I placed the gun
inside the frozen carcass of a sheep and tried to sleep.

Night in the bay of Mexico I took the pistol up on the deck
and said. ”bang, bang you are dead. Put the gun back in
Its box and the box in a plastic bag and threw it overboard.
It was a beautiful night and I was free of my obsession with
firearms they make me nervous and I´m satisfied to know
I was not born to be a gunslinger called Morgan Kane.