ItNothing (Poem by Alexandra Itzi)

“No.”

“But I—“

“I said no.”

There was a slam,

a bang,

and then a sigh.

 

That’s how the story started,

and also how it ended.

 

She looked down at his body,

at the crooked bend of his neck.

She peeked into the crater of flesh,

at the bored-out hole in his skull.

She sniffed the air,

the gunpowder and smell of

shitty

shitty

death.

 

“Fuck,” she breathed.

His old motorcycle jacket

went around her shoulders.

She dropped the gun into

the big triangle shaped pocket,

and then patted the lump of it three times for good luck.

 

Opened the front door.

Locked it carefully for

No reason at all.

She kicked over their lawn-gnome,

Stumpy,

on her way down the cracked foot path.

He smiled sideways at her through

a tangle

of overgrown weeds.

 

“I had to do it,”

She told herself,

On the bus-ride to Toledo.

 

“He was ruining me,”

She sniffed,

During a thunderstorm in Vegas.

 

“It was me or him,”

She bleated,

To her mother is Southern California—

To the queen of Cacti and martini’s,

Of silk scarves and old men with mustaches.

 

Where she patted the gun three times

For luck,

Her mother patted her

Yves Saint Laurent ROUGE PUR COUTURE

 

Within a garden,

Of purple desert flowers

And black lacquered chaises.

She told her mother.

 

And her mother,

Sunglasses perched near the place

Where her nose was

Before she cut it off;

Her mother,

Smiled her peroxide smile,

And said

Nothing.

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