Originally Published in the June 2012 Issue of Empirical
Chalk bites into the street,
Flaking crumbs as it travels,
To the elbow,
To the muddied Air Jordans,
Past blue jeaned bent and twisted leg,
Past a raw, bloodied pulpy spot,
Around a body twisted in half,
Finally coming to outline at the head,
Mouth open in silent scream,
As blood and brain matter dot a horrid I.
The sheet comes up,
Blotting out a future,
Cutting short conscience,
Over the head and gone,
As the world dies screaming,
Leaving only chalk.
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