The Shot
One eye closed, one eye opened,
Both feet straight, all toes frozen.
A quick breath in, a slow breath out
One hand holds aiming, the other, without
But two thoughts begin to trickle through
Pull it now, or go home and eat fondue.
The shot is fired and the metallic cylinder is sent.
Just as the Man appears for the ninety-nine percent,
The cylindrical metal makes its landing to represent.
Not only does it find its target, but this is not a chance event.
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