Seated at coffee shop, talking with soldier from NRA; assumed name. Preached about how pious Adolph Hitler was, knew John Lennon from album cover, sold marijuana in shotgun shells.
One eye discolored, packed with gunpowder, lies in wait for federal agents. Under floorboards coins of platinum, detonator filled coffee cans, doorbell primed; fuse stitched to sleeve of confederate uniform.
If he wasn't so monastic Iran would have him Iraq would have him just to blow him up U.S. government spit him out; tasted like crap. Putty man laughs as he beds down at the halfway house,
Swishhh... listen to the air rush out from the tire between his shoulders.
