Ares
by Patrick Roche
The former President’s ear is bleeding and everyone denounces political violence.
Everyone says a bullet stained with blood and panic is un-American.
Everyone clutches their good old pearls and says how grateful they are
that it missed and we avoided the death of civility and
everyone denounces political violence in America and
denounces the despicable un-American people and
the starved arms of a city cradling its shredded un-American flags and
shredded un-American children razed by good and holy American political violence.
The former President’s ear is bleeding and the anchors interview other guns
about why these guns need more guns and everyone nods and
sends Christmas cards cradling their perfect American guns and sings prayers
to their American god of guns and an officer carries the look and feel
of a taser and draws instead a gun and holds tight to this god and
everyone pities the honest-to-god mistake and
everyone whispers thoughts and prayers to no god
that any of them cares to see and everyone pays tithe to the god
of guns and the god of money and the god of false gods and white
picket fences and everyone says a bullet stained with blood and panic
is un-American.
The former President’s ear is bleeding and all the red ink
in all the red newspapers is monopolized for the ear and
there is no ink left for any other ears in this issue and
everyone denounces political violence in America and
no one denounces American violence in politics and
America denounces everyone political through violence and
the former President screams out to Fight and everyone applauds but
someone else somewhere else fights – Palestine and Congo and Sudan and and and
and an American bullet loads with every American face etched onto it and it fires
and screams and America cheers because it didn’t miss.
Everyone says a bullet stained with blood and panic is un-American.
Everyone clutches their good old pearls and says how grateful they are
that it missed and we avoided the death of civility and
everyone denounces political violence in America and
denounces the despicable un-American people and
the starved arms of a city cradling its shredded un-American flags and
shredded un-American children razed by good and holy American political violence.
The former President’s ear is bleeding and the anchors interview other guns
about why these guns need more guns and everyone nods and
sends Christmas cards cradling their perfect American guns and sings prayers
to their American god of guns and an officer carries the look and feel
of a taser and draws instead a gun and holds tight to this god and
everyone pities the honest-to-god mistake and
everyone whispers thoughts and prayers to no god
that any of them cares to see and everyone pays tithe to the god
of guns and the god of money and the god of false gods and white
picket fences and everyone says a bullet stained with blood and panic
is un-American.
The former President’s ear is bleeding and all the red ink
in all the red newspapers is monopolized for the ear and
there is no ink left for any other ears in this issue and
everyone denounces political violence in America and
no one denounces American violence in politics and
America denounces everyone political through violence and
the former President screams out to Fight and everyone applauds but
someone else somewhere else fights – Palestine and Congo and Sudan and and and
and an American bullet loads with every American face etched onto it and it fires
and screams and America cheers because it didn’t miss.
Patrick Roche (he/him) is a queer poet, mental health advocate, and Carly Rae Jepsen enthusiast. He is the author of A Socially Acceptable Breakdown (Button Poetry, 2021), a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award. His work has been published by Button Poetry, Thimble Literary Magazine, Voicemail Poems, FreezeRay Press, and his mom’s fridge. He lives with his husband and their dog in Astoria, NY.