We grew up handling Glocks

(I guess, a Southern thing),

loved the grey metal stock

as we practiced their ring.

Let’s reinvent the Glock,

give it raptors’ wings

to hunt over the blocks—

count the carnage it brings,

mask the permanent marks

as when it sweats and swings

and swiftly barks, barks, barks

no matter what bird sings.

Yes, my Glock can be a vicious thing:

A hooded condor tethered to string.

Oh, sing, sweet child, sing,

Oh, angry brother, sing, sing,

Oh, scorned lover, sing,

Oh, nervous officer—yes, you—

walking the darkened blocks,

You know what your Glock can do—

Sting, sting, sting.

****

Love Sonnet with a Coda was originally published in April, 2020, in the Dead Mule School literary magazine.

Categories: Poetry, Selection: 2020