a pulse of a muffled
puff, it must be fire
works not a gun but
my body jerks even
though i have never run away from a pistol
or seen its eye near mine, though i read the news everyday and
                                                                               
                                   i’ve seen your wound like a red round close 
                                                to your heart and the kids on the street play                
                                                                     with AR-15 Nerf Guns© laughing he’s been shot
                                                  ha ha he’s been shot, he’s been shot!

a pain in this poem passes
through the thin line
bulging, tempting 
rupture of the string,
humanity, fuck, me.

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