by Steven Kent

“Six million Americans carried guns daily in 2019, twice as many as in 2015”
—The Guardian

You see that guy ahead of me in line?
I saw him glance my way; it happened twice.
He looks at me again, he’ll pay the price.
I’d guess he’s got a gun—well, I’ve got mine.

This suburb’s now an urban combat zone:
The mall, Panera, church. I’m on the clock,
With ammo by the pound to fill my Glock.
Did that dude pull a piece? Wait, that’s a phone.

Some server down at Starbucks gave a smirk
At my Colt .45 and Ruger 9.
This snotty little leftie crossed the line—
I might teach her a lesson after work.

Don’t cut me off in traffic, don’t push through;
I’m on the edge at all times, you can bet.
Do nothing you might not live to regret;
If you get shot, remember: that’s on you.