The Pistol The heft and size and shape provide a thrill, but even though it’s fun to handle one, the function of the pistol is to kill: to stop, to plug, to perforate, to drill; to keep the peace, intimidate, to stun. Its heft and size and shape give me a thrill; the scent of oil, the cold, hard snout, the shrill metallic taste make clear, when all is done, the purpose of a pistol.  Live to kill and kill to live, and know that I can fill another man with lead and never run. Its heft and size and shape give me a thrill, this instrument and focus of my will, my blunt and single-minded friend, my gun; the function of a pistol is to kill. Be straight, be strong, be-like-a-rock, be still my rod, my piece, my Glock, my-will-be-done: your heft and size and weight give me a thrill. The purpose of my pistol is to kill. Michael Cantor If you've any comments on this poem, Michael Cantor would be pleased to hear from you.