A Bullet in Copenhagen

Ten sentences are not enough for the thudding steps, panicked cries

It’s a developing story they say

but we don’t see that this story has developed to infinity

the camera is frozen in the pain of the last squeeze

there will be no negatives this time

for the facts are painted into a looping fresco

Those among pillars fire off futile fragments

thinking of everyone

horrific reports of several people

killed in a shopping mall

just three weeks ago it was a hospital

school

supermarket

concert

church

skyscraper

fill in the places on a daily routine

fill in the places we vacation

fill in every place that exists in the sky

still we step in unthinking

if we thought, our muscles would stop outside our front door

yet every consistent landmark bears red ghosts

how much are they truly thinking?

how much are we truly thinking?

we are lucky for five seconds of thought

among dying flames of anger

the candle doused by Uvalde, Atlanta, Aurora

eyes averted at the marching caskets

for the runners and the fallen, we are too soon with sympathy

too late with calls to action

Headlines capture the arms midstride on white and black lines

yet the ink stays right there

caught breathing in, never are the laws breathed out

by brief thoughts, prayers that reach too short

Ten rigid sentences are all we care to give

in an autoclave the words stay

running, investigation, arrest

they say the truth is whispered objectively

out are the weak with anger and sorrow

out are those who scream and break the glass

the truth is it’s too late for objectivity

no longer is a camera’s click enough for tectonic plates to slide

no longer can signs and shouts, gentle words open welded ears

the truth is we have gone too far

and given too much for objectivity

this developing story of gun violence should develop no more

our camera’s storage groans under tears and indignance

ten sentences will never be enough

nor would a hundred

these bullets have bled the fawn of hope long ago