Last Fall, I wrote this poem about mass shooting incidents in America. I didn’t expect the impetus for publishing it would be a mass shooting blocks from my house, and during the best neighborhood festival around. I consider Toledo and the Old West End where I live to be a hidden jewel in the Midwest. I still do. Unfortunately, we can’t expect to dodge the decay of American society. Sadly, this poem, written many months before, is a little too spot on…
Black Pill Shooters
Ever there is a shooting
We want to no
Why, why, why
Such why’s guise
In a post, post, post modern
Asinine nation
In deep, deep, deep
Alien nation
Sow so-so wanting normal
De-fault a la mode
Taken too extremes
Red pill
Angry and aggrieved
Blue pill
Depressed and unbelieved
When as a madder of fact
Depressingly taken
Buy black pills
That don’t work
Or have sects
But accost allot
To every won unconcerned
Or what does it mean
Too be a man
Drug threw life
To knot no a preyer
Where awe is
Game
Gamer
Gamiest
Too high
Heaven
Or low
Be helled
As everything aloud
Delivering affront page knews to us
And them, and soully then, silence
There is only one quest in
What is there, too a void
There is a pill for that
As main lyin’
Nihilism
Leveling the plain feeled
Accept the pitch, black
Why hole down yourself
Too purely won pill
Such as red pill or blue pill
Why not get down with that black pill
Mix every color together
And somehow void
That crappy rainbow
And what due you get?
Won pill too rule none
No holes barred
Why, why, why is everybody
Up in arms
A bout
Shoot, who cares any amor
As life turns out
I am munition
