He came there to **** him
The setting sun made the scene tranquil
Bathed in light unguarded
We were festive… and simple
The shots rang out
The shots tore into his chest
The shots tore through the village, through the hearts of all who knew him
The shots tore away what we were
The rain has washed away the blood
But can the rain drown out his wife’s mournful cries
Can the rain fall through us
Can the rain wash away what we are now
Apr 11, 2025
Apr 11, 2025 at 12:20 PM UTC
He came there to **** him
The setting sun made the scene tranquil
Bathed in light unguarded
We were festive… and simple
The shots rang out
The shots tore into his chest
The shots tore through the village, through the hearts of all who knew him
The shots tore away what we were
The rain has washed away the blood
But can the rain drown out his wife’s mournful cries
Can the rain fall through us
Can the rain wash away what we are now
The drug war in Costa Rica has claimed too many lives. On my birthday last year, an assassin walked into the beach bar we were celebrating in and gunned down a local resident. This is the first time my poetry has been able to revisit that night.
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