from “Anthropocene…A Live Event”

poetry (trigger warning: mention of school shooting)

My son teaches at the school in town. He wishes
for an increase on his meagre pay. He fumes, adding
that my administration does not equip him with the proper
schoolhouse resources and must do so himself. He is hoping for
reimbursement from us. We say what a savings! My niece was a pupil
at the school in town until last week. At the schoolhouse she left
this life when holes tore through her body. The trigger used is our
most lucrative model yet, sells better than hot cross buns. One a
penny, two a penny, hot cross guns! *The fourth and fifth are free
(*loyal customers only eligible for this giveaway, see fine print).
As one acquainted with trade and commerce, I know the expense of
things and know that burials can be expensive so I will at least pay
for my niece's funeral to ease the financial hardship on her parents.

***
Dedicated to hope, that we, especially those in positions of power and decision
making, will stop our spiral of destruction as creatures who take everything and
give nothing.

— — —

Originally published in Washed Over…Or, Things Dedicated