Mere days after Sandy Hook
and the slaughter
of 20 young angels
and 6 overseers
I’m riding on a city bus
and I can’t help but think:
What if there’s a gun-wielding
homicidal maniac aboard
getting ready to unload?
Is this my own mental blight?
Society’s?
The media’s?
What would I do
if someone suddenly stood up
on the moving bus
and started firing off shots?
Would I freeze up?
Would I duck for cover?
Would I stand up myself
and tackle attacker to the ground?
Would I become a human shield
for a woman or child seated nearby?
So many questions in this gun-show scenario
So many fears in this trigger-happy society
A bloodstained boomerang
History repeats
There is no “normal” to go back to
No, we cannot get along
Nodding off, wake up
Here’s my stop
Back door, please
Wow. that last stanza really solids up the tale of the poem. great stuff.
I agree–I get nervous too. Wonderful poem. k.