Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
I keep rifles in the front closet.
Trespassing can be a glance.
A good shot,
I practice with bottles, bull's eyes.
I cross the line where the fence breaks,
where the wood falls in unintended directions,
and prepare an offensive
before any repair.
I know the value of my property.
Ungloved, I place the barbed wire.
Written by Vievee Francis
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