A poem about the Las Vegas shooting, and other world tragedies.
The world is ending, I tell you.
A shooter blew out the window of his hotel room last night,
killed 58 people,
injured more than 500,
we don’t call him a terrorist.
The headlines tell us he was 64;
“never done anything like this before”;
grandfather; former accountant;
but never a terrorist.
Las Vegas, I am sorry your government is too naive
to take away your guns.
A U-Haul van ran down four pedestrians yesterday night,
an officer was struck last night;
stabbed last night;
a man was charged with 5 counts of murder last night.
They called him and his brown skin a terrorist;
knew what this meant right away
because it’s happened before.
Edmonton, I am sorry you knew what to expect.
There were people in the streets last night,
protesting last night for their right to vote.
Bullets flew here too
because if the vote doesn't go the way it was planned
by the government
too often the government fights back;
more than 800 harmed on their way to vote.
Catalonia, I am sorry your own people have turned against you.
A hurricane ravaged the coast last night,
killed 72 in Florida;
34 in Puerto Rico;
75 in Texas;
injured more than we heard about.
Entire countries went dark last night
because they don’t have electricity -
don’t have means to call for help.
America, I am sorry your government has forgotten
what human decency looks like.
The world is ending, I tell you,
but she's still got a few good years left in her yet
and I don't want to spend them apologizing -
and no one ever wants to wake up to last night,
so hey you - if you're reading this,
if you made it to the end of this poem,
don't just sit there -
get up and do something.
Words are not enough anymore,
because the world is ending -
but it doesn’t have to end like this.