Waiting for the Miracle


“…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



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 ThirdWednesdayLooseLeaf TeaMulberry Fork ReviewEclectica Magazine, and Punchnel’s.  Updates on her writing and editing can be found at:www.facebook.com/AliciaColewriter or http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6470571.Alicia_Cole.