Yesterday, I felt like
and the people
and brought to hell, plugged-in
behind their desks
—a slow ride
with the worst kind of music.
Hitch would get on an elevator
and talk to his co-conspirators…
“Have you ever seen so much blood?” He asked. “The body was twisted and mangled
at the bottom of the stairs.”
Then Cock would get off
and smile to himself
while the suits hung,
holding their breath
strangling on his suspense.
The immense satisfaction
of auto-erotic asphyxiation
influencing their emotions
the crowd, with suggestion.
I was trapped in a training, yesterday
while the mayor spoke about public safety.
He talked about drills
and school shooters
like he had all the answers
while the teachers raised their hands like little kids
“How do I know when it’s safe to run or to hide?” One asked.
“Listen for gunshots. If you don’t hear any, hide.”
“What if my kids run because their parents told them to?”
“Make sure they listen to you,” the mayor said.
The answers kept coming…
I raised my hand like a man
“Yes?” The mayor asked.
“What if a shooter pulls the fire alarm and the students and staff line-up in neat little rows
on the field…
and then, he opens fire?”
A gasp of horror
filled the room.
I had killed their false sense of security.
The mayor’s mouth fell open—
Then, he got angry.
“We can worry about any scenario, or we can put it out of our minds,” he said.
The room breathed again.
“This kind of thing doesn’t happen very often.”
His response was more terrifying
than what I said.