Time to get rid of our guns
don’t you think so?
No!
Ten splattered souls
bound beyond a westward border
like small waves contained
in an ocean’s divide.
Sad in the way Monday comes after Sunday
not in the way you legislate
or delegate somebody
to do something.
Don’t touch our control
because that could be dangerous
to the health of a body
already sick with decay
crusting at the edges
like a ham when it’s cooked
in an earth oven clicking
with rising degrees
like hands slipping through
the white in a black dot
or the silent repetition
of the ammo when it’s out.