Dylan Klebold (17)... Senior.... September 11, 1981- April 20, 1999
Eric Harris (18)... Senior.... April 9, 1981- April 20, 1999
Cassie Bernall (17)... Senior.... November 6, 1981- April 20, 1999
Lauren Townsend (18)... Senior.... January 17, 1981- April 20, 1999
Rachel Scott (17)... Senior.... August 5, 1981- April 20, 1999
Corey DePooter (17)... Senior.... March 3, 1982- April 20, 1999
Daniel Mauser (15)... Sophy.... June 25, 1983- April 20 1999
Daniel Rhohrbough (15)... Sophy.... March 2, 1984-  April 20, 1999
Dave Sanders (47)... Old ****.... October 22, 1951- April 20, 1999
Kelly Fleming (16)... Junior.... January 6, 1983- April 20, 1999
Steve Curnow (14)... Freshmeat.... August 28, 1984- April 20, 1999
Matt Kechter (16)...Sophy.... February 19, 1983- April 20, 1999
Isaiah Shoels (18)... Senior.... August 4, 1980- April 20, 1999
John Tomlin (16)... Junior.... September 1, 1982- April 20, 1999
Kyle Velasquez (16)... Junior....May 5, 1982- April 20, 1999

The people need a villain.
Someone to hate, the loathe, to look up to.
A captain hook, a long john silver, a BlackBeard.

The people need a villain.
To justify their own strange existence.
Sitting at their cash registers, in their grocery stores,
wondering if they're doing the right things.
They see the news about the school shootings and feel better because
      no one wants to shoot them.
An Eric Harris, A Dylan Klebold, A Jeffrey Weise

The people need a villain.
Someone to tell them stuff they don't believe.
To rally them, **** them, and **** them,
Cause they haven't the nerve to do it themselves.
A Bush, A Cheney, An Obama.

The people need a villain.
Someone to love, to idolize, to fear.
God forbid we take our own chances, and maybe come out a villain,
      when all we ever looked for was truth.
A Thompson, A Bukowski, A Kerouac.

(Do you remember Columbine?  I do.
From Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris
straight through to Anthony Ferrill
of yesterday's Milwaukee nightmare,
the deaths like a drumbeat go on,)

Shooters like thistles crawling
in their dementia to our cities
leave trails as the unexplainable
cancer claws to vine into our
conscience.  We listen to the

words as waves of newspeak
write the epitaph of our known
society.

Deeds as gunshots slap the
faces of we who can no
longer sleep. The panacea of
Peace In Our Time has rotted
limbs.

I live in the branches,
the false years of  the 50's.  
The Days of Our Lives
are indeed shot with a

bang

not

a whimper



Caroline Shank
2.27.20