REVOLVER'S MISSPENT CALIBER

Revolver's misspent caliber
By james a. galgano

Oh my gosh did this really occur eternally beneath each passing moon.
Within often blood shot eyes spent like misspent ammunition in rage
Hitting each unwary victim dodging expended fuselage marooned
Before every camera with microphone longing so hopefully to engage
An in-depth conversation too often unintended in hopes to describe.
What might have been revealed beyond each strained vision insecure?
Too often surmised yet as often misapprehended within the eternal jibe.
Of every avenue afforded for explicit explanation once so self assured
As if it would relieve some burdensome respite upon undiscovered rage.
Seeking almost as often as not as dog-eared remarks upon unwritten page
An overriding conviction that amongst all clues uncovered is found immured.
Beyond and soon beneath undeniable doubt marooned upon island insecure