Poem 333 ± May 2, 2016

Stephen Zerance
Gun Porno

A shot in my ass, four pills back,
I’ve never wanted a gun so bad—
a gun in my hands,

your gun, my gun, transgression,
clack clack clack—this is fun,
holding my breath

till I pass out, my first
taste of blood, thirteen, a gun
pointed at me, one single shot

rang through the house, the magic
of murder ringing, singing,
calling out your name.

I’m building a mansion
where doors open
to solid walls, with my gun

I sleep in a different
room each night
or I’ll die. I want

to be tougher, spit
in my eye, throw my arm
to a corner, sit spin stop

the ride. I’ll have staircases
to nowhere, decoy
rooms, a roulette parlor

where I speak with the dead.
Who’s next? I’ll catch
love with a gun, play alone

with guns, my gun, your gun, a gun
to give me life, and I’ll bleed money
for a gun to stop the rise.

Stephen Zerance is the author of Caligula’s Playhouse (Mason Jar Press, 2016). His poems have appeared in West Branch, Prairie Schooner, Quarterly West, Assaracus, and Knockout, among other journals, as well as on the websites of Lambda Literary and Split This Rock. He received his MFA from American University, where he received the Myra Sklarew award. Stephen lives in Baltimore, MD.

This poem is not previously published.