“Hey, don’t get nasty” he says,
after telling me
I’m ‘surprisingly’ (to him) closed-minded
re: the private ownership of AR-15s
– on the
I hold: no one has a need to own these
weapons of war, killing machines. No one. Not
now, not ever.
is a weapon” he insists, equating
of lifesavers, quarters, and brass knuckles, as if
that line of logic somehow will slip crowbar
pull loose a cobweb keeping closed the dusty chest
labeled ‘polite, demure, smiling acquiescence’
and not instead: spear a wasp’s paper-nest,
set it alight and humming.