by William Aarnes
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| Art by Clara Lieu |
wants to hope that the world would be better—
more hospitable, less deadly—
if people agreed to do without guns.
But I’m the dread in his head, dwelling
on how many guns are already loaded,
how many aimed, how many already fired,
piercing lead already in the wounded, in the dead,
my thoughts having shot their way through
his fingers on to his computer screen:
“Time to buy a gun or two? Or stockpile
an arsenal?” Sure, he’s already deleted
those thoughts. But I’m the dread in his head.
more hospitable, less deadly—
if people agreed to do without guns.
But I’m the dread in his head, dwelling
on how many guns are already loaded,
how many aimed, how many already fired,
piercing lead already in the wounded, in the dead,
my thoughts having shot their way through
his fingers on to his computer screen:
“Time to buy a gun or two? Or stockpile
an arsenal?” Sure, he’s already deleted
those thoughts. But I’m the dread in his head.
William Aarnes lives in South Carolina.
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