Young Writers Society

paranormal bliss but i don't run

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badpoem

my daughter asks why we call them blacktop angels,
those we honor on city-brick;

“it’s the route they took to Heaven”
which we witnessed them travel
in a stuttering fluttering frenzy
to blur the rifle’s vision

but a bullet doesn’t mind where it sleeps
judge & jury never recess
giving executioners
world wide jurisdiction
to establish where the Pearly Gates land
in front of small-owned businesses, usually,
for the public to windowshop
history painted in blood.

blacktop angels didn’t choose their name;
they never had the power.