deepundergroundpoetry.com
No debate
No debate
when the harvest of Sandy Hook is
no catalyst for change even
when the shredded mozzarella hearts
melt like the candle wax that fills
the green and yellow dixie cups held.
when empty school chairs in
common schools become
common place in the
sarcophagus of the mind;
when we tolerate the harvest
of cheeping souls and all that is left
are the shadows dancing in
underwater sunbeams.
Art and death mingle in the
translucent light of a parent's
everyday daydream.
Arms, grief stricken, holding
their vacuum cornucopia no more.
when the harvest of Sandy Hook is
no catalyst for change even
when the shredded mozzarella hearts
melt like the candle wax that fills
the green and yellow dixie cups held.
when empty school chairs in
common schools become
common place in the
sarcophagus of the mind;
when we tolerate the harvest
of cheeping souls and all that is left
are the shadows dancing in
underwater sunbeams.
Art and death mingle in the
translucent light of a parent's
everyday daydream.
Arms, grief stricken, holding
their vacuum cornucopia no more.
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