We were magnificent. We were. We wait to be magnificent again. First thing, wait until the election is over. Not until the election is over can we be magnificent again. When it’s over, we must wait until our candidate takes office. If our candidate doesn’t win, we must wait until the next election.

I wait around the train station. I work there, across the street. I must wait until the next election. Also, must wait until my job is done. It’s never done. Like in the movie, I’m always waiting for Calvera and his men. I load my gun, pace around in the dust. I’m sick of all the rest of them. Everyday, it’s the same thing. But, I know this is temporary. Magnificence will be granted. It’s coming. Can’t get here soon enough. I’m tired of all the killing. Fight after fight, bodies everywhere. It’s just business, but enough already. I used to press flowers in books, go to poetry readings. I still like flowers. Not much poetry hereabouts.

I try to get out of bed differently in the morning. Like if I stretch first or slip one hand to the floor, then a foot, anything rather than the same two feet out and down. Can’t happen. I end up putting my pants on like everyone else and then, bang, right back in the dusty yard near the train station. I wait and wait, kill Calvera again, eat lunch. Wait.


Published in BANG! The New Guard

May 3, 2019 issue

Bang! The New Guard - publisher of poems by Dan Reilly