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the sounds are louder on the other side by Samantha Coerbell
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 Forward to Samantha Coerbell's The Romanticization |