She sits peacefully in a navy blue wheelchair,
Legs splayed, feet resting on plastic blue squares.
From her patchy head trickles a thin braid of grey hair
Every wrinkle, every sag, displays a life, unfair.

She strides with confidence in a rippling navy skirt,
The silky fabric billowing with a grace far from inert,
She flicks her thick, black locks with a smiling flirt,
Shining molten chocolate eyes, incessantly alert.

In her folded, leathery hands, she holds a paper slip
It’s crinkled like her fingers where she presses it to her hip
Slowly, her clenched fist relaxes its trembling grip
And it flutters to the tile floor beneath her IV drip. more…

On a nebulous evening at the corner of town
The vacated carnival begins to close down
And as the jaded workers wander out wearing frowns
The top of the Ferris wheel reveals a clown.

He teeters on the seat with sleazy eyes
Flashing a red smirk as he turns his head to the sky
Twists his caricatured face as he murmurs “goodbye,
Fair-you-well, cruel world, tonight I shall die.”

In his colorful suit and huge mottled shoes
He throws his bulky legs over the edge, into the view
They dangle haphazardly over the carnival blue
The icy laughter replaying in his mind like a queue.

He looks down at the world which bore him such dread
A state of angst past any tears he could shed
Off the seat he slipped, and into his death
They’d find him the next day, in a pool of red.

He kisses the forehead of his blank-faced son.
just murdered son.
his first born, only son.
touches his fingers to the freshly drawn blood
spilling from the bullet hole in the young
thirteen year old heart.
He brings it to his lips and tastes hatred.
Hatred clouds his bloodshot eyes and
he staggers to his feet with his hand up to God.
Here was his son unjustly martyred
who shall be dully revenged.
Here was his enemy’s father’s father
himself at last avenged.
Animosity of yesterday dwarfed
by the blinding bloodlust of today.
And broken hearted father
crosses his own hardened heart.
Peace is obsolete, peace is ridiculous.
The philosophy here is simple—common sense.
You killed my son
indeed I shall take yours.

Last month I found the gun
In the safe, it’s lock undone
Grinning silver, gleaming gun
I put it in my pocket to show someone.

Ten years ago they made me cry
Told me they could make my lunchbox fly
Took it from my arms as I let out a cry
Threw it out the window, at the sky.

Yesterday they took my clothes away
In the locker room I hid all day
Praying for someone to help me away
No one came and there I stayed.

Five years ago they pushed me around
Taped my mouth so I wouldn’t make a sound
Twisted my hand all the way around
Knocked me hard upon the ground.

Today I took the gun out
Which I didn’t leave for school without
Bang bang and I took them all out
Put it to my head and let it shout.

Black and white
Everyone is right
Egos aflame
In life’s sadistic game. 

Opposites repel
Send the other to hell
As the shades of grey
Are strained away. 

Evil and just
Cannot and must
If only we were open
We wouldn’t be so broken. 

He flashes a toothy, twisted smile
His finger up–he has a point
Manic expression clouds his eyes. 

“Science!” he exclaims. 
He had found an answer 
“Science is the explanation,
God is naught.”

He wags his finger. 
“Men are from monkeys
Miracles are false
Science can be seen
It is the only thing
Worth believing.”

His wife shakes her head
Prays for his soul. 
For who planned this world
What power gifted life
Who created the universe
In equilibrium and perfection?

Science?