Sonata for Fourteen Bullets

In memory of Renee Good and Alex Pretti

There are those who cast their burning
            anger into bullets.  I see them
fire, then turn away  

without washing the body
            of the beloved, without kneeling
to kiss each wound. 

Without ever tending to the words
            burning their own bodily hollows.
Renee and Alex, I cannot

pull those enflamed words           
            out of your bodies
and heal you back

to how beautiful you were. 
            I can only try
to cleanse the words that fester,

that fly from my own mouth.           
            And yet I must say—
may the lull and linger

of these words
            churn the sleep of all
who speak with bullets.

 

 

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John Bradley
Picture Rupert Loydell

 

 

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