N is for love

I wrote the following poem as a sequel to "K is for Love." I thought that a sequel to a poem was one of the most facetious things I could do, so I did it. "N" in this case, stands for the NRA. One of the things that I really focused on in my early writing, and even now to some extent is exaggerated stereotypes. Generally I take an interest, group, or idea and then create a character that is focused (obsessed) with that idea alone. While many of my poems never get edited over the years some are condensed versions. This poem initially talked about the couple's sex life with guns, but I decided to edit it out because it was just too vulgar. (Note after having transcribed the poem) After performing this one night a young man came up to me and said, "I really like your poem, but Glock 9's don't shine." I stared at him blankly..... I am not even sure what a Glock 9 looks like or even that it exists, it's just something I think I have heard before, so as for it not shining...... I can't say that I care that much. Forgive the inaccuracy of this poem if you feel so inclined to be offended over its fantasy.

He's a man in the NRA
The second amendment is here to stay
He's looking for a woman for some fun
Under her pillow there's a loaded gun

She's a woman with automatic rifles
No liberal ever stifles
she loves her Glock nine
and how it shines

They like to shoot their guns
Killing animals and intruders for fun
They met one night at the shooting range
He saw her and had this feeling.... it was strange

It was like shooting a man, but better
He walked up to her and met her
"Hi, my NRA ID number is A65492
And who may I ask are you?"

"I am just a gun loving nut," she replied
He went weak in the knees and sighed
He was in love
Like shooting an Uzi at a flock of doves

They were married in a shotgun wedding
On their way they had to be heading
Off to the woods for their hunting honeymoon
but that would be their doom

He woke up one night to the sound of breaking glass
His reaction was fast
He grabbed the gun from under his pillow and marched to the sound
He was careful not to make any noise as he walked around

He saw the outline of an intruder
It was a woman, but he'd still shoot her
He jumped into the dark room
The intruder had a weapon, it was a broom!

Stop or I'll shoot he yelled as he pulled the trigger
Blood spat as the bullets hit her
POP1 POP2 POP3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16, CLICK CLICK
Out of ammo so he reloaded quick

16 more hollow point 44s in her head
Sufficed that she was then dead

He turned on the lights
and to his fright
it was his wife

Broom in her bloodied hands
Broken dish in a dust pan

"DAMN IT!" he yelled
as on his knees he fell
"I am ruining my life
This was my fourth wife!"