suervisor

riding in the car
for the first time
i am struck
by the speed and siren
and yes, the gun
he asks, do you know
how many times i
wanted to pull it
but never did?

we stop to eat fried catfish
and memphis listens
maybe we aren’t so
different, i reflect
as cicadas gnaw at the air
but there is still the gun.

i shot guns once, i say
but can’t do it again.
he doesn’t nod. his uniform
presses my ears in turpitude.
you learn what you learn, he says.

back in the car, i call him
my supervisor.
this time, he nods.
that’s good, he says.
i watch the rustle
of tired raindrops
when will this end?