A STUDENT WRITES OF COLUMBINE

by George Moore

 

 

What is incomprehensible to us,
in our ancient wisdom, the wars
that have sparked wars, the fights

across oceans with mother lands,
fatherlands, are minor trophies
in the case of contemporary shams,

when the young become our
mentors, mediators to our truth
of violence.  The student says

someone did not treat them right,
their eyes were blurred by video,
their minds strung out on anti-

this-and-that, depression the blank
board of the game of pills,
and of course their parents forgot

to kill them in the womb, or treat
them like children, giving them
everything and nothing at will,

retrieving only the smile of madness
and the growing pains of adolescence,
and the trigger of the magician.

What is incomprehensible to us
is ourselves, where we have come
over the millennium.  The darkness

of the cave of home, the flick of
socialization, the growing mass
of babies in answer to the call of God.

Education’s deadly taunt becomes
a disease.  The shooters are drunk
with wisdom, and know only

what they cannot see.

 

 

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