I took the gun from my mother’s hand

and pointed it toward the woods like she told me to
I pointed it straight and never knew
what kind of gun it was
I aimed at the tree she told me to pretend
was a stranger at the door
was a man who wanted to take me into the woods
an ex who wanted me to take back my rejection of him
by making me take it back
I pointed the gun
my mother loaded before she told me to place one hand under the butt for support
look down the snub nose
look at the erect sight            look down at my chosen assailant
see the porous bark
see the assault of textures
see the ripples of gray valleys
of unwanted advances            imagine the way you want him to die because
she was afraid for me
because she said I needed to know how to defend myself
stand and take aim
while she stood proudly behind because
I did everything she told me to and I did it correctly            it was her gun
from her nightstand
my mother placed a gun in my hand
my mother said
look into the woods and see
everything that could/might/will probably try
shoot and afterward laugh
because if the first shot doesn’t kill him
she said laugh
because that will scare him
make him pause
then shoot again shoot that motherfucker again aim for heart or the balls or the head where there’s a mouth
so much talking at you
into you
because it’s a privilege to take whatever he is giving
a city in his mouth
your steady hand
flatten that city
this gun this metal can reduce every inch of him
take aim
my mother said
find a tree in the woods
imagine what could happen