Worship
A guns poem
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Worship
The American Dream has become a bullet
loaded into its chamber
like a coffin into a hearse,
perpetual anxiety state
of perpetually getting worse,
in a daily deadly game
of pop goes the duck duck goose.
Shooting gallery serenade
sung morosely by anchors
of the suicide nightly news,
nothing to be done
except stick another child
onto the school bus
like a roulette ball dropped down a chute…