Chicano Poet

Friday, July 24, 2009

Gurlfren

My next door neighbor shot her football player
boyfriend, twice in the head, twice in the torso.
No more first downs, no more quarterback sneaks,
no more Hail Marys, no more fleaflickers, no more
handoffs, no more Statue of Liberty plays, no more
miss direction plays. And, then, she turned the gun
on herself. The bullet (whose job it was) sped
around in her brain until it found a resting spot
in an area surrounded by warm, delectable gray
matter. Able to sense the last lingering thoughts
which flashed lovingly even though she had died
hours ago. Thoughts which only the bullet could
understand and embrace.

4 Comments:

At 1:11 AM, Blogger Jim Murdoch said...

I like the imagery in this one although I might have been tempted to have her shoot five bullets and leave the final one (assuming she used a revolver) for herself. (I would expect that a revolver would be a poet's gun of choice anyway.)

I'm curious about the title. I can see what it means obviously but is this meant to suggest how the boyfriend spoke, like a boxer whose had his nose flattened?

 
At 1:21 AM, Blogger RC said...

Actually,Jim,this poem is based on a recent murder/suicide here in the States. A well known ex American Football player( not soccer) was killed by his girlfriend who then shot herself. Gurlfren is just a literal pronunciation of how some pronoun "girlfriend" on this side of the pond.

 
At 1:32 AM, Blogger PURPLE STAINED SKIN said...

VERY DEEP AND VERY PERFECT IN IMAGINE FORM. I LOVED IT, IT WORKED AND BROUGHT THE READER TO A GREAT STORY AND LEFT THEM WITH AWESOME WORDS TO SHOWCASE THE FACT. IT'S ALMOST LIKE A FAIRY TALE BEING TOLD WITH SUCH VIVAD IMAGES.

 
At 10:56 AM, Blogger RC said...

Thank you very much,Purple.

 

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