Here, Bullet

Title from a poem by Brian Turner

Here, Bullet
good boy, have a biscuit.
Let's go run that swamp, boy,
stinky water splashing round the cypress knees.
Let's shut up the damn crickets and scare off the fireflies.
Warm summer night, one good dog.
It's fine to be alive.
Billy-Joe's got the kerosene. Jake's got the rope.
We don't need no white sheets like them big-city pansies from Mobile.
We got what we need right here.
You're a good coon hound, boy.
Let's go hunt us a coon.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside