A single mother Shot twice in the back of the head For twenty dollars crumpled away in her pocket Sweat Accumulated from a twelve hour shift Soaks first The ***** bill itself (then the jeans of the perpetrator) As his sneakers depart the newly developed crime scene. The woman Bleeding out in the street Becomes trivial talk over family dinner
These things happen.
A priest is beaten to his knees Symbolic representation of Pleading To a higher power. Prayers fly first From his mouth (then hit ground level) Where they meet his teeth, Both of which scatter the parking lot. A rosary becomes his focus while three men escape Taking only his Wallet and a sense of security.
These things happen.
A girl looms over the eighth floor balcony As she counts every passerby below, first In her head (then again out loud.) Emotion becomes causation split second Everything inside spontaneously Bursts Pooling blood mimics graffiti wings across pavement. Her quick descent becomes gossip Among school yards.
These things happen.
Muscles flex firm in my jawline Visual declaration of what my brain is processing When you casually say “These things happen”. Somehow You manage to justify pointless tragedies Dismissing them as facts of life While I boil away in hand made paranoia. These things don’t just happen. First There is cause (then there’s effect).
See I can’t accept the notion That walking out your front door every morning Is some Darwin's gamble If that’s what it all comes down to Reproduction and survival I probably won’t place any bets Because I refuse to accept “That’s just how the world works”