Cops And Robbers

Think about how many
of your youthful TV loves
opened with the sound
of a gun.

Think about how many
movies you used as a mold
opened and closed with
the sound of a weapon at play.

Think about how much
of how you used to play
needed the sound of a weapon
for the games to work right.

Think about how easily
random items could become
guns and swords in your
magically fatal hands.

Think about how happy
it made you to gun down
a playmate, relegating them
to play dead on the battlefield lawn.

Think about how they used to get up
after being dead and take their turn
to kill you back and how you went on
taking turns till the streetlights

came on and you were called away
from all the killing by higher powers
to eat something and watch a little more
killing before bedtime.

Think about how surprised you still are
that killing them now leaves
the dead on the ground.
Think about how real blood smells.

Shudder to think of them rising.
Thrill to the thought of how you grew up
into who you are: barely chagrinned, relieved
that none of them will get their turn.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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