Before Resurrection

Drunks drive down streets where kids play. Someone dies.
A white boy has a bad day. Someone dies.

It’s not a hate crime if your victims turn
you on. Women work. Priests pray. Someone dies.

The farmhouse settles. Barn cats yowl and mate.
Hounds howl moonward. Mules bray. Someone dies.

Winter melts into spring. On Monday, no
Gun laws are passed. On Tuesday, someone dies.

What is more tragic, never-uttered love
words stuck in throats, or the way someone dies?

Blue plus-sign on a stick. Cancer in blood.
A new baby’s on the way. Someone dies.

Where race meets misogyny, a man walks
into a spa. Bullets spray. Someone dies.

Man down. The ambulance trapped. When traffic
or dumb drivers cause delay, someone dies.

Words are knives. “Grab her by the,” “Kung Flu.” On
our screens, in instant replay, someone dies.

You tell the oldest stories, Alison.
Someone’s in charge. Someone’s prey. Someone dies.