right hand pointing

K a t i e   L o n g o f o n o

 

Conceal and Carry

 

I found a soldier 

and a war, some dirt 

to sink my boots into. 

I'm learning to shoot— 

the lessons are always 

about hips and kickback. 

I grow new bruises 

each day, beat myself 

against the gun until 

it empties for me. I pull 

every trigger I come 

across, learn to see 

the world through 

a scope, start worrying 

bullets in the chamber 

of my pocket, a nervous tic.