poem

Song Of America

I obey the klaxon

Of metal against metal

Sharp against skin

The crunch of dry bone

Walls red speckled

Sirens too close home

Lock-down drill, get in,

Get under the desks

Just move, don’t think

Rhythm and melody

Rhythm or beat

Bright light clink

Of bullet into tin pan

Alleys dark, unlit,

Play hit after hit after

Hit

7/14/20