Pathology of Violence

T. J. Sandella


from a distance

drones hover 
over every hovel and house 

internet adversaries 
portend each other's ruin 

it's what makes us human
isn't it 

this compulsion
to prove our permanence  

and maybe violence
proves it more compellingly
than paintings  

or poems

it burgeons

fist into spear into bow
into bomb 

though we've heard
the tiny voices 
buried beneath the rubble 

though we've seen 
arms flailing
from high windows 

though we want better
for ourselves 

and each other

there is another voice

that says the world

around a blade 
around a bullet 

and where did I learn
as a child 

to make a gun
of my hand 

point my finger at the moon
and fire 

and why is part of me 
still waiting 

for it to sputter from the sky

like a balloon filled 
between god's puckered lips

suddenly let go?