Dance of the Waterspout [Week's News Poem, December 14, 2012]
A gunman shot the kids away
To ride-off on the waterspout.
And every time the news obtains a tear,
I lift my arms and spin, then fall.
The world keeps spinning,
Nothing's free, not even sorrow.
I'll spin to see things clearly:
Swirling down the drain,
Nauseating (nauseous with migraine).
Just like DNA, a whirlpool,
A galaxy's edge, everything—
And I mean everything—
Is spinning out of control.
Of course I'll cry.
I am a waterspout.
“The gunman, who was believed to be in his 20s, walked into a classroom at Sandy Hook Elementary School, where his mother was a teacher. He shot and killed her and then fatally shot 20 students, most in the same classroom. He also fatally shot five other adults, and then killed himself inside the school. One person was also injured in the shooting.”
—JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN and WILLIAM K. RASHBAUM, NYT, Published: December 14, 2012
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