“…by the power invested in me, as God of my world…” – Natural Born Killers
Mallory: I dance as though fire cleanses me,
my hips the rhythm of bullets while Mickey
eats green pie.
Just a simple job. The coffee’s fresh,
cheap, the turkey plate’s real good.
Just a simple job. The coffee’s fresh,
cheap, life a whirl of hairnets, potato hash.
Mickey: There’s a rhythm to eating pie,
like carving the world up for your own
enjoyment.
Just a simple stop. Cold beer, quick
meal, fuck in the bathroom when lucky.
Just a simple stop. Cold beer, quick
laugh, maybe she’ll take me second.
Mallory: I ain’t no whore. My knee cracking
your nose, my fist in your gut, there’s your proof
of it.
Mickey: Who made you my whore? This knife
in your foot, in your gut, that’s me ruling
over you.
Just a simple day. Left alive, wet
piss, hot and running down my leg.
Just a simple day. Just me, and
the way the ceiling went all black.
And the jukebox’s wailing, a god’s exploding laugh
—
Alicia Cole, a writer and editor, lives in Lawrenceville, GA, with a menagerie of animals. Her poetry has recently appeared or is forthcoming in ThirdWednesday, LooseLeaf Tea, Mulberry Fork Review, Eclectica Magazine, and Punchnel’s. Updates on her writing and editing can be found at:www.facebook.com/
