Firing Squad FIRING SQUAD Like the viper in the bush I can spit and scream louder than you. My tongue its glisten mass is innocent as the white riot my face describes. I’m tempered steel, the nut and bolt arse of sensibility and price. And alive for so they say kicking the dust from under your feet, grinding the ash into the ground, meeting my deadline twisting my rope. Calling, are you here? are you here? are you there? are you there? But no…no nothing. The silent rebellion has taken place, the rust turns its golden dust and once again mama pulls her little trigger. Nick Clarke 1981 Revised 2012