Fatal Shots

They rang out clear on the spine of the night,
Smashing stained glass of basement churches
And disembowelling pots of truths.
Aiming at the tendons of hate from
Lone-eyed monsters,
The slugs, flaming and fertile,
And with sparks of racial rage,
Penetrate America's gloom
With a boom.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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