Gundrunk Blues for Uvalde

Bullets pump from the chambers of our magnum hearts
Lead and cordite course through our clotted veins
Poisoned blood singing songs of annihilation
Psalms of death

Our love on sale in the gun case
Thoughts & prayers scribbled illegibly on the receipt
All sales final, no returns

We told our children we’d do better
That this would never happen again
Not to us    but here we are
Toeing the line
Nearing the cliff

Is there no bottom?

Hear the spent rounds
Clink against each other
    Ceaselessly tolling death knells
Hear the classroom doors locking
    In vain
Hear the school chairs thrown away
From the knee-high tables
Panting fear huddled underneath

Feel the impact before you hear the blast

When will the body count be high enough?
    Isn’t one too many?
How much money will it take to save our children?
When will our politicians stop voting with their wallets?
How many more verses of this godawful song must we sing?

Uvalde’s song slips into the stygian stream
Quit your rowing, jettison the oars
Give up bailing on the rising water
It’s useless if we let this divide chasm
If we don’t stop the darkness
    From flooding in
We’re all going down with this ship

About the Poem

This poem is about gun violence in America. It was written immediately after the massacre in Uvalde.

About the Author

A.S. Coomer is a writer & musician. Books include MEMORABILIA, BIRTH OF A MONSTER, THE FETISHISTS, SHINING THE LIGHT, THE DEVIL’S GOSPEL, & several others. @ascoomer

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