Bullet's Proof

First there's a slide
and then there's a click
and then with a bang,
I fling of my jack and fly free-

Leaving behind a chem trail, 

I'm moving so fast, I catch sound asleep

by the time any of you
hear the noise
of my departure,
I've already arrived-

and gone by...

leaving a body behind

 lyin still and stiff,
indentified
Only by a chalk line

The jacket I left
is just a bullet's proof,
that playgrounds have meant to be
bulletproof


Of course, there will be rants and raves
about inner city rage,
rap music,
gangs,
meth
and cocaine...
The need for more graduation,
More gun control
And  less incarceration,

and in the meantime
more lead will be bled
from the earth's inside
so that more hammers from judges' can strike-
to punctuate the end of life-
...sentences

and me?
I'll just be resting here, embedded in flesh and broken bone

It's just a temporary home - I'll soon be extracted
and examined
and remelted
reshaped, 
restocked and resold

Like nothing tragic just happened...

I'll be reinserted and restacked into a new clip that's 
smacked into a new gun
And soon I'll get to fly free once again

Like nothing tragic ever happens.

Until...
an 8 year old boy picks up what he thinks is a toy -
One that really belongs to his father

The boy is pretending to be a cop
That he sees on tv
His 6 year old sister is playing the robber

and as the cop draws down on the bad guy
and pulls back the slide
there I am sitting there,
staring down the barrel at pigtails

Something tragic is about to happen............

And all I can do is sit there
Holding on to my brand new shiny jacket
waiting for the okay to fly,

Once again free-
Free to bring misery

Free to leave people

scratching their heads at the mystery,

Wondering if  a magazine's capacity,

wont impede our ability to to institute our liberty,

From polluted oceans to shining seas

leaving swiss -cheesed bodies,

Lying in the sun like raisins in potatoe salad .

And I'll have you know... 

While y'all post about thoughts and prayers , 

I'm about to drunk-drive over your condolences,

Super- sonically into the frail body of another little sister,

And then, I'ma ricochet into the room,

Of elementary school classmates,

Then, maybe smash into a Hutus village,

Cheered on by their Tutsi cousins,

 Looking thru scopes and gunsights,

 Made right down the street from where you eat dinner every night...

My final destination the left cheek  and right jawbone of the activist reading this poem,

 Leaving him lying there bleeding,

While listening to the lonely cries of an unborn son,

Who might not get to meet his daddy

The only thing impeding my progress, is the bones of his nasal cavity- and gravity...

 So while you scream and shout about what lives matter, 

Pardon me while I celebrate what it really means to live free...

Free to create heartache, and heartbreak,

Free to bring pain.

All while I'm just sitting here, waiting,

innocent and silent,

patient and violent,

Just waiting...

waiting for the slide...
waiting for the click...

Waiting ...for the BANG...