Land of the Shot

in

God save America, land of the shot

Shoot ‘em wherever you can catch ‘em

Off guard—schools streets marathons malls

Festivals nightclubs churches bedrooms—

It’s a life for a life for a bullet

Wedged in the flesh of a form.


Oh God, in America boys will be boys

There’s no crying here but anyone can

Get a gun to be seen to be known

Because violence like sex like guns sell

And politicians can be bought and

The bottom line is not life but power but

Money money money money money.


God, in America no one feels safe

Violence normalized romanticized

Anyways, we need the protection

Anyways, laws don’t do nothing

Let them have their guns, let them

Shoot until there’s no one left to clean

The blood from our white collars.


God help America, land of the mass murder

Massacre land of the sick care health care

Land of fences and walls and camps

World’s strongest military rape culture

Oligarch rich-getting-richer president

Keeping us controlled, confused, divided or

…Dead.

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Collective Unburdening

in

Where we come from
The edges are supple
Not rigid
Blurring into the ether
And each other
Where nothing is separate
Not even our minds
Our ideas bleeding
Together
Spreading infections
And immunity
And tolerance
And maybe love.
Maybe love.
Collective unburdening
Divulges
A sparkling collection of
Modern thought
Where love of all colors
All iterations
Can be tolerated
Differences celebrated
Repression
Oppression
Confiscated by the past
Condemned by the future
Like crucifixion and the gallows
Gone
But never
Forgotten.

 

Somebody Got Shot

in

I told them to go: Daddy,Take her to her favorite place The library. Pick up the Thai food And come home, be safe.

They come home and I kiss them We eat together, then we watch Fantasia while I stretch and Daddy works. A normal evening.

Except for the police racing about Daddy wondered why, I said: Guns The last time I saw them speeding Without sirens, somebody got shot.

The neighborhood blog flashed a notice: A shooting at the corner, near the library At 6:45. My reasons for living crossed paths With a gunman, and I sent them.

I get on my knees, blessing my Angels, my worst fears curling and Charred, touched by the fires of hell While I pray for their mothers.