Sometimes your life feels like a movie
only a fool would shoot.
It drives you into a corner. After you’re done
walking in shrinking circles
with no room left to pace
due to the crush
of fellow felons, you start
to bang your head against the wall
until it bleeds. Bits of brain
drip out your ears. like a burping
volcano or a leader addressing
the press with an evasive remark
about “senseless violence”
(so as not to offend his donors–
those of money rather than blood–
since election season trumps
tragedy and hey, this is America,
where mass-murder is as predictable
as bad weather or politicians’ cliches).
Let’s not upset the pineapple cart
or bite the grenades that feed us.
What a shame when horror happens
and nobody lifts a finger to prevent
the next asshole from pulling the trigger.
But it’s okay as long as you
can survive this photo op,
not blow your lines–or even worse,
weep–which might disrupt
the commercial of your life,
exposing it as a lie.
These problems are best
left unsolved: the slaughter
of innocents, calving glaciers,
rising seas, one-way wars:
Switch off the projector,
lay down your microphones,
and raise your arms high
to reach for the ghosts
we’ve all made.