FreezeRay:  Poetry With A Pop
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Stevie Subrizi

I Wanna End Up Like Bonnie and Clyde

             after “The Israelites” by Desmond Dekker

I work late tonight, but in my mind,
I’m at the bank, smiling

with my Colt on the teller, as the love
of my god-damned life

keeps the crowd off my back.
They say we’ll never get away, but

what else would you call this?
We don’t “get up” in the morning.

We don’t slave for our bread--
we jack it from the conquerors,

and we’re so fucking slick
that our art becomes infamous.

And then, we get to die!
We never have to give up.
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