Strike bullet. Blam!
Pull trigger. Pow!
Ain’t bein’ American awesome?
I feel most alive
when I’m gunnin’ someone down.

Don’t know, can’t put my finger on
when my soul got crumpled,
I’ve been psychically screwed.
I’m past the point of snapping.

I’ve crackled. I’ve popped.
My heart armored, my brain
If Waco wasn’t a wake-up call
what will be?

Ten years since Columbine,
the documentary. Gutless
politicians folded. Blew away.
Blown away. I got
my assault on.

I felt nothing.
Same old, same old.
Dealing a game
of death.

— H A L ☮ ♥

Originally published in the local newspaper:


One thought on “AFTER AURORA

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