Kids with guns playing hostage outside my kitchen window trapping their sister in the chicken coop behind the tenement house
Kids with funds riding scholarships to Harvard saying someday I’ll be the one who pushes that little red button
Kids with needles saying at the end of all this I will wine and dine the devil to persist my own mess they go off so silently
we all turn to memory and fade to the black flickering insides of eyelids and run out film reels the bottom of oceans and the bedrock of glaciers the whole earth will hum for half a second before the next bang hits