“bluff”

if a memory is charged,
its story will emerge;
shooting out
from dark tunnels
like a bull
toward the matador
or a bullet
toward the memory
that will not die,
so you must write
it.

go on,
get it
out.

then, rip
it. tear it.
cry.

wear the horns
or the horns
will wear you.

honk.
damn it.

narrative poem written on 02-07-2014 by: on mattkane.com
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