Another Monday morning. The big story is a pair of mass shootings in Ohio and Texas.
On May 19, 2018 I published this poem on this blog. Still relevant:
The News Today
I read the news today, oh boy
Who is dead. Who is not. They train for this.
Active shooter drill. Lock the doors.
The door locks from the outside only.
Put a door stop in it.
The door swings out.
The shooter is coming. The shooter is active.
Right up the hall.
Silent prayer.
Silenter and silenter.
Where are the doors?
Just thinking during silent prayer.
Hey did you hear the one about arming the teachers in Alabama?
Just thinking during silent prayer.
Silenter and silenter.
Preschool teachers thinking about the best way to shield their students 2, 3, and 4-year-olds. With their bodies.
We’re going to be playing a little game let’s see how many can get in the bathroom.
Real drill in Birmingham, Alabama.
High school students thinking about that troubled guy. Is that a trench coat? Is this guy going to shoot me? Is that guy going to shoot me?
High school kids making a last will and testament.
Bullet holes in stained glass.
Hey isn’t that how the light gets in?
Bullet holes in classroom windows.
Isn’t that where the light streams in? Where the bullets get out?
Rejection to that connection. No more bullets, no more bullet holes.
You know, I read the news today.
Oh boy.
How many holes in the dead, in the living.
We must count them.
We must count them all.
The End.