- He hears a pachink when the child falls.
- Another for the grandfather. Louder
- yet for the clean shot at the pumps.
- His head rings like a neon arcade
- triumphing the points of his kills
- as real blood warm pools into
- living schoolyard grass onto
- the gas station macadam to
- swirl with the rainbowed
- oil spills. It's virtual, man.
- A game with losers
- and a winner.
- The trainer of mounted police tells his men
- to see rabbits when they must control
- an undesirable crowd. When the cop
- rides over the hippie hunched small
- over her fallen child's fragility he
- does not see a mother and son
- he would give his life for at
- any other intersection –
- he is clearing a street
- of rabbits.
- That woman there in the hooch door
- may be hiding a grenade behind
- the infant in her arms. The
- possibility conveys
- permission to fire
- at The Enemy.
- Add just two to the body count,
- to the millions beyond reckoning,
- beyond any possibility of reason,
- of acceptance, of rationality.
- We become delusional in our denial.
