controls Congress
With its pumping
Mutant
Pecuniary
Poison
Lifeblood
Corrupting souls
Buying silence
Innocents will
continue to die
From high-powered
Weapons of War
Bought in America
like a bag of groceries
from a grocery store
While Wayne LaPierre
Scribbles his want list
for Republican
Bought and sold
baby-kissers counting
their bankroll gore.
If Congress had lead balls
in its hearts, brains
pelves
If images of dead
school children grew
so palpable, so intimate
That their fever
opened a passageway
To eternity and back
Would the madness
Stop then?
Would lone wolves
Still sing their rancid
Noteless songs
A Witch’s Brew of shrill
staccato tempo
Tentwentythirtyfortyfifty
Pigeons intheblinkofaneye
That numbed ears
don’t see anymore
That tastes forgotten
and too familiar
anyway.
© Gil Hoy
Gil Hoy is a Boston poet and trial lawyer who is studying poetry at Boston University through its Evergreen program. Hoy received a B.A. in Philosophy and Political Science from Boston University, an M.A. in Government from Georgetown University, and a J.D. from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. Hoy’s poetry has appeared, most recently, in Ariel Chart, The Penmen Review, Right Hand Pointing/One Sentence Poems, The New Verse News and Clark Street Review.
