No Exit Poem by Doug Lane

This life
I am living
is intolerable.
At least,
so it feels
tonight.

Tonight
I can understand
the suicide's
POV.

I can understand
taking myself
out.

But how?
Jumping off
a high rise?
Hiring somebody
to blow me
away?
Throwing myself
in front of
a train?
Ramming my car
into a bridge
abutment
at 70 mph?
All the preceding?

In general,
I'm very much
for gun
control.

But not
on the nights
I feel like
blowing
my head
off.

Sometimes
we just need to know
there's an exit
ramp
from this
rat race.

You know
what I
mean?