Broadcast Yourself

i gave you power
you looked into the tube
turned around and
blamed me for your sins
sought solace in spritual hymns
took back what i stole
the burner was on the hip
girbaud knee pocket had the extra clip
nape of the waist the perfect place
for shell cases and
whistles stirring dogs with silencers
sirens and sermons for heat-seekers
on pavements leaking
painted faces of murals in memory
we both were taught to
take ten paces back
and squeeze
the life
out of life
this life of mine will shine
with no captions
word is bond