Day 20 Creations:
Today’s Bad Poet prompt was to write a long poem. The one I wrote isn’t all that long, I guess. But it was on my mind.
curled in the fetal position
like after Savasana
like the deepest, most restful of sleeps
but she ain’t getting up
body broken by 3,000 lbs of metal
driven by someone late for work
but he ain’t getting gup
skull popped by encased lead
fired by a sniper in supposed God’s land
standing aloof, laughing
like cops blocking the road her broken body lies on
like soldiers aiming at tin cups instead of human bodies
tears pouring down my face
like when I’ve lost those close to me
like now
When I was walking my neighbor’s dog this morning, the police had a section of road blocked off. I looked down the road to see what happened, and I’m pretty damn sure I saw the body in the road. (Maybe my eyes played tricks, or maybe the police put something in the spot to mark it. It was about 50 minutes after the crash happened according to the papers. idk…) I didn’t know she was a she at the time. The crash made the news, and is also another statistic in my county (#5 for cycling deaths in the U.S.!!). It’s shaken me all day, and in the moment this morning my thoughts also shifted to Palestine. The comparison is stark. Some value certain lives less, whether through negligence or other reasons.