Daily Archives: August 10, 2009

Sondra Wants A Gun

If I had
owned a gun,

if I’d had one at hand
any of the times I’ve wished for one,

if I had kept my little Browning
instead of trading it for acid,

if Dad had let me keep
the 12-gauge Ithaca,

if I had decided to take the .22
with me when I left home,

I’d not be writing this
now. 

Which is a comfort
to some

but not to me, who hesitates
with a knife and can’t decide

on a pill, who is too heavy
for a rope, who floats and swims too well

to drown, who cannot abide
the idea of a long fall to hard ground.

If I had a gun
I’d surrender to its swiftness.

If I had a gun
I could make it do the work I can’t.

If I had a gun
who would stop me?

If I had a gun
there’d be no more “if,” 

only
“when.”

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Rescue

close my eyes
for me, would you?
i can’t stop looking
and I should.

shut my mouth,
push the jaw hard, break it
if you have to.  i’m drawing
too much attention to myself. 

it’s not that i mean to be
such a spectacle, it’s just that
falling jumbles your control. 
the knobs whirl,

the switches reverse, the dials
spin uncalibrated through their cycles
and i don’t trust them anymore.
you would think i’d have enough experience

to right myself, but experience
isn’t always enough.  sometimes
it gets in the way of getting a grip
on an unfamilar disaster.  it makes me imagine

i’m strong, when strength
is the last thing i need right now.
what i need is to float and allow
myself to be pulled in and set right,

but i’m too married
to what i know to let that happen
right now, so if you can,
smack me like a television

or a static-pumping radio.
get me right.  move me out
of the sunspot storm.  give me
another chance, even if it just holds off

the inevitable for one day.
i can take it.  i’m used to dislocation
and pain.  it’s just that right now
even i know i look awful

and am not working right.
i just want one more shot
at self-correction. close my eyes, my mouth.
return me to my regular upright position.

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