At sunrise you leave
your sleeping family
weapon under one arm
or tucked in a leather satchel
drive slow to work.
Open carry
stand your ground
safety first.
A regulated violence
invades the suburban hush
haunting memories
the surge and pelt
of bullets in the brain
pan, the long bone.
Each time you review
the sky gets darker.
Hours of training
local permits
safety first.
You park in the lot
beside the muscle cars
parental Mercedes
shitbox American-mades
head for the building
the weight of the .32
like a hug from a friend.
New Florida Law: conceal
the weapon
target practice
safety first
You teach
the children, protect
the innocent now
pockmarked
with terror holes
the future a long barrel
with no light at the end.
There’s a name for what
you do for your students:
No Guns
Left Behind.
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Originally from Boston, Mickey J. Corrigan writes Florida noir with a dark humor. Poetry has appeared in And So Yeah, Fourth & Sycamore, Penny Ante Feud, ink sweat and tears, r.kv.r.y quarterly, Scrittura, borrowed solace, New Verse News, Flatbush Review, and elsewhere. Chapbooks include The Art of Bars: Twelve Steps in the War Against the Self (Finishing Line Press, 2016), Days’ End (Main Street Rag Publishing, 2017), and Final Arrangements (Prolific Press, 2019). Project XX, a crime novel, was published in 2017 by Salt Publishing in the UK.
Photo by Miguel Bruna.
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