I’m telling you
when the little girl says
“I don’t want you to get
shooted”
to her handcuffed mother
after her father was shot
for
no
fucking
reason
when they were just getting
ice cream
and she says she’ll protect her

and I can’t
I can’t
I can’t even be in the same room
as that video

and I go outside
and I fall to the grey stoop
and I weep
and I weep

And the pink sky
with storm clouds moving
too fast
And the lightening bug
that lands in my hand
blinks yellow:

caution

but I could crush it with rage
I’m telling you

I don’t, but
I could

because
that’s all I have left

I could
I could