Poetry Report: Sparks, NV
“Bullets pass out of the television”
There have been so many school shootings this year I haven't been able to write about them all.
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The Sandwich Island
It has gotten to the point,
where sitting down
to eat a sandwich
is a revolutionary act.
Ham and mustard.
A picnic table and not shooting people.
Bird song and a broad yawn.
The economy just might collapse.
Bullets pass out of the television
and we slap them into
the subconscious,
but don't think they stop moving.
Today, another American kid with milk
still on his lips
shoots the teacher
he could have been.
They spray off the playground
but I wish they would
spray me off instead.
I'm waving a leaf of lettuce
signifying beautiful boredom forever.
What if there are no enemies?
Already tanks are amassing
near the Cheetos
to flatten my sandwich uprising.
Someone needs to be afraid, soon.
I take a bite
and the cannons raise.
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