Here are the key words in this diminished world—

weapon,

target,

victo r,

victim.


Take your next breath,

take your last breath.

Roll the dice over the edge of a cliff

into tomorrow’s headlines.


The war turns children into orphans,

the war turns children into corpses,

the war turns children into statistics.

Children, it’s not a good time to play outside.


Not everyone is listening,

not everyone is learning,

not every human is humane.


This is an angry poem.

Anger is a shovel blade

striking buried skull and rib,

slowly unearthing

another mass grave.