Helen Goes Heavy

by | May 3, 2017 | Poetry

 

My best friend bought a Glock
which he keeps in a locking case
in his bedroom. He and his petite wife
are considering a license for concealed
carry. She’s so small, so light boned,
I wonder where she’ll tuck it, bulging
from the small of her back, or under
an arm she can’t lower. I suppose
a handbag will do, the pistol
wedged next to her checkbook,
lipstick, mascara. Even so, I doubt
she’ll pull it in an emergency. She isn’t
one to dig through her purse when
a nut job steps into the fast food,
his rage so many shades
beyond her children’s colored pencils.
Who prepares for madness?
She’s kid-in-tow below the table,
the handbag next to the chicken nuggets,
honey mustard, spilled ketchup.

Photo used under CC.

About The Author

Al Ortolani

Al Ortolani is a teacher from Kansas. His writing has appeared in a number of periodicals, across the United States: New Letters, New York Quarterly, The English Journal, The Midwest Quarterly and others. He has three books of poetry, The Last Hippie of Camp 50 and Finding the Edge, published by Woodley Press at Washburn University, and Wren’s House, recently released from Coal City Review Press in Lawrence, Kansas. He is active with the Kansas City Writer’s Place and an editor with The Little Balkans Review.