BAWLING FOR COLUMBINE
(Aurora, Phoenix, Oak Creek, Newtown, and Parkland)
“From my cold dead hands,”
Moses spoke, raising his gun,
the angels shuddered.
NOTE: This week’s gathering of the Gun Nuts — I mean the National Rifle Association — in Indianapolis sent me back to this poem I wrote after watching Charlton Heston speak at an NRA convention shortly after the Columbine High Massacre 20 years ago.
Type Dancing 