A pigeon could deliver a letter, so maybe a pen could shoot a gun.

guns don’t kill people, bad people with guns do. *poem.

FedEx friendships walk wisps into the shipping house–Indy, call a name and we will be by your side in the night, riddled by the bullets flung by those among us drowning, opening package after package packed in hoosier hospitality–your peaceful essence is in there somewhere, fighting for breath. America, what’s up with all this death? A pigeon could once deliver a letter, so maybe a pen could shoot a gun.

follow this publication (S t a s i s) for more hard-hitting poetry. And no, that’s not an oxymoron.