THE BANALITY OF MASS SHOOTINGS

by Julie A. Dickson

Photo from “Terror on Repeat: A rare look at the devastation caused by AR-15 shootings” in The Washington Post, November 16, 2023. WaPo Editor’s note: The photos, videos and personal accounts [in the report] are extremely disturbing and may be too upsetting for some people.

Repetition in media, another shooting
should sound as old news, except that
tragic loss of life keeps occurring, 
 
more automatic weapons in the hands
of unstable, unhappy humans;
we should have realized, they say
 
each time,  the signs were all there,
an uprising follows: gun rights for some,
while others weep redundantly each time
 
more are shot. The banality of killings,
mass slaughter should lead to change,
not complacency and resignation.

Julie A. Dickson regularly submits to online and printed journals. Her poetry is seen in over 70 journals, including Blue Heron Review, Hotel of Broken Hearts, Ekphrastic Review, and The New Verse News. She writes from art prompts, current events, nature and environment. Her elephant poems help to advocate for captive zoo and circus elephants to be sent to sanctuaries. Dickson holds a BPS in Behavioral Science and shares her home with two rescued feral cats.

TO BE, OR TO BE?

by Judith Terzi

A pale blue shirt against pale skin. Crosshatch

tie. Fauci looks tired as the anchor fires away 

questions. He speaks about testing, transmissibility, 

quarantines, & whatever else he must summon

up the vigor to explain, as the science flows

like the rain this morning, mud gushing down 

roads where fires once roared. How many times

the doctor clarifies, like a Spanish teacher

must explain the differences between ser &

estar––to be, or to be. Hundreds of repetitions

throughout one class, millions over a semester.

Like Fauci, the teacher maintaining patience, 

calm, civility. The doctor is tired. Use estar. 

Está cansado. Fauci is a cool dude. Use ser.

Judith Terzi is the author of Museum of Rearranged Objects (Kelsay) as well as of five chapbooks, including If You Spot Your Brother Floating By and Casbah (Kattywompus). Recent poems appear in Atlanta Review, The Examined Life, Moria, and MacQueen's Quinterly. A poem, "Ode to Malala Yousafzai," was included on a "Heroines" episode of BBC/Radio 3's "Words and Music." She taught French for many years in Pasadena, California, as well as English at California State University, Los Angeles, and in Algiers, Algeria. A new chapbook, Now, Somehow, will appear in 2022.

ODE TO WHAT WE CAN COUNT ON

by Mark Danowsky

The U.S. Postal Service was out there minding its business until the bully-in-chief took aim at the public service, calling it a joke, demanding it increase prices and claiming that mail-in voting would be compromised. When he was done with all his orange unhinged ranting, Trump did what he’s done throughout his presidency, which is to make sure someone was in place to do his dirty work. Trump’s boy Louis DeJoy became the postmaster general in May. Besides mailing letters and buying the stamps of the Confederacy, DeJoy has absolutely no qualifications for this position, but he did have one quality that has always been impressive to Trump: DeJoy is a huge Republican donor, and more specifically, a Trump donor. Since taking over the U.S. Postal Service, DeJoy is either so inept that he’s fucking things up, or he is actively working to create mail delays and possibly a clusterfuck during election time. Either way, whether accidental or intentional, he’s doing a great job that only benefits the president. Stephen A. Crockett Jr., The Root, July 31, 2020. Photo illustration: Soohee Cho/The Intercept, Getty Images, Alamy.

The mail
Morning tea
Afternoon walk
Taco Tuesday
The mail

The mail
Fresh podcast episode
The album drop
The mail

The mail
A morning dose
The mail
An evening dose

The mail
A check-in message
Missed calls
The mail

The mail
The walks
Birdsong
Rainstorm
The mail

The mail
A brief exchange
A trip to the store
Taco Tuesday
The mail


Mark Danowsky is a Philadelphia poet, author of the poetry collection As Falls Trees (NightBallet Press), Managing Editor of the Schuylkill Valley Journal, and Editor of ONE ART poetry journal.

RINSE AND REPEAT

by Rene Mears

Family members embrace following a shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, Feb. 14, 2018, in Parkland, Fla. “Deadliest School Shootings in Modern US History” —VOA, February 14, 2018

Snow falls
Summer calls
                  Crying out for what can not be.
Winter’s chill
Sparrow’s trill
                  Darkness reigns, I can not see.
Many fools
Always cruel
                  The soul, all that remains
Only pawn
Myself gone
                  Invisible, are the chains
Your woe
Strikes the blow
                 So many lying still, asleep
Another gun
Better run
                 I’m left alone, to weep.
Never ends
These trends
                 Infinity. Infinity.  No way to decease
Winter’s chill
Sparrow’s trill
                 Funeral. Funeral. Forget the peace.

Rene Mears lives in Castle Rock, Colorado.  Nurse by day, aspiring writer by night.  This is her first published poem.