shotgun: taps in december

"sand was first, than the glass", said the man that pressed your face against the cold drum drumming a low beat badda thump ba thump per rump badda thump ba thump per rump badda thump... a folded flag for the son frozen moments... burn all eyes in winter the ground sure is hard, but broken the long glare signalman a stout priest horizon clumps of earth off to one side square hole sailors fire into sky JOLT.LOCK.FIRE! boy jumps again, but not for ball not for father, not for summer what with the black it all stands out december.. it all streaks out december.. with jesus christ i heal december.. taps phone call "hello. how are you? my uncle died, suicide. my mother's fault?" my end: "in debt and drunk are no real reasons for this..there's more." we both know other things too better times and frames of mind events then rapture more taps in a field a man stands poised and aims for a war against himself he wins a family sleeps nearby suburbia forever with him untold his mother tells church jogging accident depression garage sale shotgun.