coming soon to a town
near you
half-drunk
beer belly beached
in a dublin hotel room
where handel once played
his blessed messiah
the proper english newscaster
tells me there’s been
another mass shooting in america
at least nine dead in oregon
something in some way
i’ll have to explain
to any bartender, waiter, cabbie, etc
tomorrow in this fair old literary city
the custom of representing my people in europe
is not a burden i wear well
that is to say….this has all happened before
but they’ll be looking for answers
to this kind of nonsense
and on the tv my countrymen (and women)
are already lining up with pro-gun banners
crudely written poster boards
that are slaughtering the english language
one vowel at a time
bloated jesus fury crackers
the scions of generations who have raped and pillaged this
land
drowning in a sea of waving flags
they are telling the president
to go back to kenya
a blonde grandmother cries into the camera
she says, the president is going to come here
to take away her guns
we need more and more ammo, she moans
we need to kill lest we be killed
if only those kids had been armed…
half-drunk in a dublin hotel room
where handel wrote love songs to god
i shut the tv off
because i’ve heard it all before
sip slow from my glass
thinking empathy is the way here
or there is no way
then i turn to my wife and ask her
hey, where do you think
it’ll happen next?
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