'Ferris3' by Jim Davis-Rosenthal

 

the sounds are louder on the other side
by Samantha Coerbell

 

pop pop kids playing killers
climbing rooftops crawling through cramped stairs
welling with the anticipation of the pop pop the pow the siss
but blaaaow
is a pump in a officer's round fired a piece
"tha's not plastic" squeezed off by coppa georgie porgie
puddin' head pit lead against plastic and
made the boy die die like in dead
the foreverest kind pow pow pow and
i wonder how many more children will die i am #5
this year alone my voiceless groan sifting on high
high school's a dream and it seems i'm not alone
another lil brother kid playing kids games being
happy lies gut gutted stomach spattered
as if it mattered our guns were not real and i
can feel the cold on my back though i can't quite
make out if this city cares this coulda been your kid
going pow pow pow yours pop pop coulda tried to
rewind time from when the before was here not
the after the time when I was here not after i am gone
and i am gone gone for good good and dead and the only
way georgie's getting back out from behind that desk
is to pit his story against mine
lead vs. plastic
lead vs. playdoh
lead vs. a bouncing rubber ball
his story against mine but wait i'm dead
and dead men tell no tales so damn, i ain't got no story no more
i'm climbing rooftops in the after life
watching little little kids
playing with guns
i can only hope are not real
i squint my shutted eyes
feel the breeze pass right through me
listen to the bump bump blaaaow cops chasing robbers
but it's not like for real
now i know pow won't kill you
pop pop can't make you die
and blaaaow is just a word i made up.

 

 


 

Text © 1999 by Samantha Coerbell

Original Graphic, "Ferris3," © 1999 by Jim Davis-Rosenthal

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