Sex and Murder Magazine

By Derek Richards

badges and shotguns
grace this crooked porch
the shuffle of fear
voices needled by
impatient threat

i lick the oil from my fingers
kiss the barrel
offer a sly wink to Lucy
clear my mind by blinking
cold beers and hot dogs
long summer drives
my mother’s arms

outside a voice barks orders
heavy clicks and cop prayers
my daughter always told me
bad men don't die good
i wonder how old she'd be now
"fuck you," i tell them.

Lucy nods her head
holds my stare
her knees are dirty
her mascara is sex and smudge
i can see the tension
defining the muscles of her calves
"ready?"

god has no place for us
we understand glory
is bad luck and lost daughters
outside they're offering one last chance
Lucy blows me a kiss
i can't help but smile
it's time