This man is a hell of a hellraiser –
good at being Zeus and his guns were very precious.
My grandfather beat a man to death
for banning his gun. He said he saved too hard and hung
it over his bed.
I knew my mom would not approve
of me living with this man. I was excited
about her calling me a whore and cutting me out
of the will. His type of love is called fucking
and when I tell him the truth he holds a loaded gun
to my head. I wish his daughter was a son.
I will see her in his house in the summer. His doors
and his windows will still be closed and he will still
be on the internet. I will cook his food and launder
his clothes and purchase a little bundle
of shares. She will notice when he drops his head
on the keyboard and his steamy
body stops shaking.
This is when I will be ready to admit
that I too slid back the bolt to throw away the case.
Annie Blake is an Australian-born poet with a focus on Relationships, Social Justice and the division and the union of the Self. Her poem, “These Grey Streets” has been nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize and has been published in The Best of Vine Leaves Literary Journal 2015. She is excited about the process of individuation, research in psychoanalysis, philosophy and sociology. She is a former teacher who lives in Melbourne with her husband and five kids. You can visit her on Facebook, Pinterest, Goodreads and annieblakethegatherer.blogspot.com.