Straight Shooter

A small taste is all it takes
And so appears a new reality it makes
The coward breathes it to hide his sorrows
The genius shoots it to celebrate his fellows

The end, however, is all the same
A shattered mind, simple remains
And so return hidden pains
Brimming in stares we give, filled with shame

A large taste is what is needed now
To cure the body becoming sick
Due to the orgasmic reality for the fleeing heratic
And all that remains is the question: how?

Malcom Anderson
Staff Writer

Originally Published in Bandersnatch Vol. 47 Issue 2 on September 27, 2017