by John C. Mannone
she emptied six slugs
the thug’s chest; rage stoked
adrenaline and he continued
resolve, stumbled closer
her wielding a long kitchen knife.
a quick thrust of her thick
blade before she collapsed
stance, she swung around, kicked
screamed in a wild rage—
martial arts maneuver of flying
to head, blood spraying, spilling
the floor. The raucous cries
the .38 special had awakened
own adrenaline, pumping.
momentary silence broken
a six-year-old’s plaintive sobs,
everything alright, Mommy?
heard the noise; I’m scared.”
hugs her daughter close
her heart, whispers in her ear,
baby, everything is fine.
was just the boogieman . . .
he won’t be coming back.
C. Mannone has poems in Windhover, North
Dakota Quarterly, Poetry South, Baltimore
Review, and others. Winner/Nominee of numerous
contests/awards, John edits poetry for Abyss
& Apex and other journals. He’s a physics and chemistry professor at
Alice lloyd College in Kentucky.