Standing tall in front of them in his combat boots
and camo pants
His clothes stiff, unwashed, stained with the sweat
of anxious days
A golden beam of sunlight glinted off gray metal
Stand up he commanded, if you’re a Christian,
and they did
Believing they might be safe from harm, from death
They fell, nine of them, not from strict adherence
to their faith
But from the cold hard steel of a mental illness,
endemic in the USA
An evil malady of easily, legally obtained vehicles of slaughter,
We content ourselves, this time, that no one said:
he seemed like such a nice guy.
OctoPoMo – Day 2. We were prompted to write a cinematic poem. You be the judge. How many times have we witnessed this scene on the screen? A reality horror show.
Thanks for reading.