from In the Gun Cabinet
Mike Lala
. . . . . . . . Nocturne in the gun cabinet . . . . . my mother’s body in wake
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . snow falls around me . . . . . in the hallways of
. . . . . . . .T H E . . A R M O R Y
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . a bloodhound tracks a dying scent, the snow, white
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .static, opalescent, sops a half-eaten hare
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .as I step forward, a chandelier fades.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Night: two doors I walk up to
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Night Blooming (dear
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . god, Robert)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dear Mother I
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .walk in
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . you this
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . night I
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . lose
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . myself
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .before me
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . doors I
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .push
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . past I
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .open books
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . drop, I part them
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .I come home
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Odysseus, beneath
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the failing ozone, I part
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . them, Moses, staff in hand at
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the water, the ceiling scattering paint chips
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .to the corners, somewhere in the wide room a piano
. . . . . overturned; I turn; my body follows: blackbirds scatter at gunshot
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .my foot, a ram, like Grendel at the barracks
the air rips my ears — I step through the flung-open doorway to the street
. . . . . . . . . R E T A E H T . . T I X E
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . fealty to a tattered flag in steam above the marquee
From In the Gun Cabinet
Available from the TAR: The Atlas Review Chapbook series
This poem was originally published in Volt, issue 19.
Mike Lala (b. 1987, Lubbock, TX) lives and works in New York. His poems appear in Boston Review, Fence, The Brooklyn Rail, Denver Quarterly, Jubilat, The Awl, and VOLT, among others. In the Gun Cabinet is his third chapbook. Find more at www.mikelala.com.
NB: Please read the [. . . . .] here as white space. We are limited in our formatting options by Medium’s CSS and this is currently our best compromise to present the lines justified to the right margin, as the author intends. The poem is also presented as an image, without the spacing dots, below.
