the pulse/ is common to all of us//
letting us know/ we can breathe
but/ one night/ there was only gunsmoke and flames
blood /and dancin feet made still
one night/ my daughter who loves to dance /who is gay
wda been there/ had she taken her daughter
to a theme park to play and/ imagine
she wda been/ climbin over the bodies /sweatin
bloody/ usedta be gleeful bodies now strewn neath the
disco lights/ so eerie sounds jammed with moans & pleas for help
during pride/ month the pastel flags coverin their bodies
maybe/ make believe protection from gunfire
it is wrong / their lives so they must die.
these young joy seekers in outrageous costume &/ vigor
that may be/ a jihadi freak /a white trash bigot/ a button down business man
whoever feeds the slime of hate and then is amazed at the beings hidin
in the bathroom /with the shooter waitin to die/ that cd have been my daughter
crouchin in the corner/ tryin not to be seen
when everything /abt her life was to be seen\her wife\her lover\the woman
she dedicated her love to /they were open & proud
& visible/ now smudged with soot gunpowder and blood
so much blood/ from so many bodies/
now seekin/ breath
at /the pulse/
so much heavy breathin /gasps/ and/ groans
what to do now crawlin over the bodies/ movin/ shards of bloody bones/
out of the way/ an arm\here \ a finger separated from a hand &
necks/ barely attached to heads /half blown away
‘are any blacks in here/ I don’t have anything’ against blacks
yet/ he killed/ them cuz they were there with the gays
they were black and gay/ like my daughter/ achin
from draggin herself/ thru the heaps of bloody bodies
shot down in rhythm/ with the music they enjoyed
so much they thought/ the gunshots were the/ bass
of the music/ making them /writhe/ wiggle & shake
on the beat & they were shot quickly/ like their arms
cuttin/ thru the air/ on the beat/ as they fell one by one
on top of one another their/ last breaths reflectin the
joy of dancin/ dancin in the face of terror/
in slow motion/ they ran/ to hide anywhere
put/ their gay bodies/ someplace safe like the
bathroom white/tiled/free of the music
they craved/now silent/cept for the sounds
of surviving//
when wd somebody come to stop this
all this bleedin ripped sinews organs exposed
& bones peekin from flesh/ who wd save them
wd anybody come to help my daughter/ trapped in the
heaps of flesh bleedin & hurt so gay free & joyous
when they came, wd anybody be left with a pulse
49 didn’t make it my daughter wasn’t there this time