The Man Who Tried to Kill the Stars

Half through his third

bottle of red, he took

the keys to the gun

cabinet, unlocked it,

loaded a rifle, stepped

out into the garden,

wet grass beneath

his feet, breath cloud-

plumed in cold air,

scanned the organic

darkness above,

sighted a target, fired,

then swung his gun

around the night sky,

aimed again, fired.

The stars impervious,

gazed down upon him,

as shots sang out.