This time Wilma
is ready for the bastards
jimmying her front door,
coming back for more.
The first time she was asleep,
the bedroom light on,
the Bible open at her side
to John, Chapter 6,
'Do this in remembrance of me.'
Tonight, however,
Wilma's lying on the couch
with the lights out,
the rosary in one hand,
her late husband's pistol
cocked in the other.
Jack taught her how to use it
when she was a bride
and tonight she will pray
for the men now
coming through the door
and then she will use it
in remembrance of Jack
and call the police.
With all the commotion,
she'll probably miss Mass
but it's a weekday,
no sin involved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love this piece! Had me captivated from the first line and kept me enthralled through the whole read! Actually wish there was more! So imaginative but yet so very realistic at the same time. Great job!