by Miceala Morano
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| From an experimental alphabet by Max Morin combining real paintings with digital manipulation. In collaboration with Jim Lepage. |
We learn, but we never do.
A as in apple, B as in ball, C as in cat,
D as in the desks we shield soft bodies with.
Rewind, repeat. A as in active shooter situations.
B as in blood, scarlet staining the halls.
Rewind, repeat. A as in America, is this
what you meant by red, white and-
B as in blue lips, C as in CPR.
I am shielding their bodies in the grocery store,
in the classroom, in my nightmares each night.
It is still not enough to protect them.
C as in clear backpacks. D as in
don’t make a sound. E as in ending,
as in breath interrupted. Rewind, repeat
repeat, repeat. A as in active shooter,
F as in freedom, delegated to weapons
and never to women. We throw our alphabet
at the bullets, B for books, C for chairs, D for desks,
the classroom deconstructed into a war zone,
our breaths deconstructed into silence.
A as in America, never learning. B as in bullets,
falling like rain.
Miceala Morano is a writer from the Ozarks whose work is published or forthcoming in Berkeley Fiction Review, Eunoia Review, Kissing Dynamite, The Shore, Gone Lawn, and more. Find her on Twitter @micealamorano .