Pew pew

Speed! Speed!

Crash Crash Clonk

Unidentified laughter
resulting in a torrent of [checks]
4.30a.m. summer bright morning
profanity which I, for once, am
too polite to transcribe and

Some of which I admit emanates
from my semi-slumbering form

Crash Crunch Pop

I ask, mostly to myself, wtf
they are doing down there
and why there

Pad and squint through the curtains
old school twitcher

A brutish fellow and his Speed hound
kicking trash and cursing in an area
he really has no business inhabiting
although I have no legal claim upon it

Would it really be a crime
if I somehow came into possession
of a 3D printed weapon and
peppered perhaps sprayed them
with a volley of fast dissolving ice shards
not bullets
which I have just invented

Yelling at the blameless Speed
and hurling abuse at the red faced cackler
woman on the balcony to the right
hair like Mr Whippy
vaping gleefully

Slamming her window open and shut
in rhythmic provocation
punctuated with some well-honed
sing-song insults

While he's kicking a can along the path
calling her one name over and over his
vocabulary failing him
his energy slowly depleting

One volley for you, one round
for you, spare Speed, and
no one would convict
me, my aim is true