The Mudflats’ Tactical Response Team. We have no idea what we’re ready to respond to, but we’re totally ready. [L-R Zach Roberts, Jeanne Devon, Marcus DiPaola. Photo by the guy selling shotguns. He centered well, and had a steady hand.]
The Mudflats’ Zach Roberts, Marcus DiPaola and I were in Nashville recently, submersing ourselves in the gun culture at the NRA convention which was held this year in Nashville, Tennessee. We’re busy processing what we saw, and will have some more posts coming soon about our experiences there.
Here’s a little preview of the convention for your amusement.
That gat felt good in my sweaty palm
I surveyed the killing fields, listless,calm
Burnt powder tang still filled the air
Adrenaline up,I didn’t care
I faced my enemies,vanquished them all
I scythed them down,I watched them fall
None got back up, no more came
Hot tears in my eyes,I was feeling shame.
Heard Mother’s sweet voice as from afar
Why’d you shoot out the tail lights of Daddy’s car?
I failed G I Joe and Sergeant Slaughter
My folks wished they’d raised a daughter.
No more wars for me to fight
My tailbone is burning,I seen the light
NRA says I can improve my aim
but if I don’t Obama’s to blame.
No tactical shotguns in pink? Bummer.
Oh my… the music , AKM. 😉
You know Mz Liz sings one called “We’re all broken… when you get up close… broken is beautiful”?
That gat felt good in my sweaty palm
I surveyed the killing fields, listless,calm
Burnt powder tang still filled the air
Adrenaline up,I didn’t care
I faced my enemies,vanquished them all
I scythed them down,I watched them fall
None got back up, no more came
Hot tears in my eyes,I was feeling shame.
Heard Mother’s sweet voice as from afar
Why’d you shoot out the tail lights of Daddy’s car?
I failed G I Joe and Sergeant Slaughter
My folks wished they’d raised a daughter.
No more wars for me to fight
My tailbone is burning,I seen the light
NRA says I can improve my aim
but if I don’t Obama’s to blame.
The End and the Beginning
by Wislawa Szymborska
‘After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won’t
straighten themselves up, after all…
From out of the bushes
sometimes someone still unearths
rusted-out arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.
Those who knew
what was going on here
must make way for
those who know little.
And less than little.
And finally as little as nothing.’
My Ma died this week . Last week she called me and asked if I remembered what poem a specific line came from… THIS one , Ma. this one
“those who knew…must make way…less than little… finally as little as nothing “
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/237694