by Rebecca Surmont
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| Video still from KARE 11 TV·via The New York Times, April 13, 2021. |
Again. Again a gun.
When can we end what has begun?
Another day, another gun
goes off by “accident” but a gun
needs a hand ready on its silver gun-
metal finish to pour all its gun
fear into. so much fear we grab a gun
and run or hide, flip upside-down in gun-
smoke circling all those bodies. gun-
ned down bodies, dark as gun
powder and turned to ash. our gun
grey eyes stunned by gun
slinging guardians, a shogun
in blue who will protect me but not you. gun
dogs sniffing the streets and gun-
less dreamers snuffed to sleep at gun-
points undeterred in finding live targets. a gun-
fight never has a winner. i do not understand the gun-
ned down making hard history or gun
stock rising, the real people at the end of the gun-
play left to bow under a white curtain. Gun
again. Gone again.
Rebecca Surmont is a poet from Minneapolis, MN, whose work has been in Silver Birch Press, The Southwest Journal, and the book Seasons by Trolley Car Press.
