Showing posts with label gun violence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gun violence. Show all posts

Sunday, April 14, 2019

National Poetry Month: Gun Violence


Guns Don't Kill People

Guns don’t kill people
people kill people with guns
it’s their constitutional right to own
the more the merrier
there’s little barrier to lethality
that’s the reality

____________________________________________
The advantage that a small or light bullet has over a heavy one when it comes to wound ballistics, is that it tumbles once it hits flesh. Bullets are stabilized to fly through the air, and not through water, or a body, which is approximately the same density as water. Bullets, like the .223 Rem fired by the AR-15, are stable as long as they are in the air. When they hit something, like a child, they immediately go unstable. This is what makes a small bullet so lethal in wound ballistics.

Heather Sher, a radiologist in one of the busiest trauma centers in the United States for 13 years, wrote this in a 2018 Atlantic article:

"I was looking at a CT scan of one of the mass-shooting victims from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, who had been brought to the trauma center during my call shift. The organ looked like an overripe melon smashed by a sledgehammer, and was bleeding extensively. How could a gunshot wound have caused this much damage?"

"The bullet from an AR-15 passes through the body like a cigarette boat traveling at maximum speed through a tiny canal. The tissue next to the bullet is elastic—moving away from the bullet like waves of water displaced by the boat—and then returns and settles back. This process is called cavitation; it leaves the displaced tissue damaged or killed. The high-velocity bullet causes a swath of tissue damage that extends several inches from its path. It does not have to actually hit an artery to damage it and cause catastrophic bleeding. Exit wounds can be the size of an orange."

Thoughts and prayers.

Monday, November 24, 2014

Haven't we heard this story before?

People get shot dead in America
Especially young black people
Like the tin bears

In bowling alley
Shooting galleries
Plink dink
Plink dink
Plink dink

You'd think
We'd get upset
And do something about it
But instead
We skip over the stories
In the newspapers
And mute the TV
Because

What the hell
Haven't we heard this story before?

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Three Thousand, Four Hundred, and Thirty-Seven

Three thousand, four hundred, and thirty-six
Shooting deaths since Sandy Hook
In America
The land of the free
and the home of
the well armed

By the end of this
warm, sunny spring Sunday
the death toll will reach
Three thousand, four hundred, and sixty-six
If we're lucky and don't have
another mass shooting

Because we the people
have our guns
and stand our ground
and don't take no shit
and live in the land of the free
and the home of the well armed

Three thousand, four hundred, and sixty-seven

Friday, January 18, 2013

Shopping Day / Торговый день


She looks down at the meat displayed
In the refrigerated case
Her left hand rests on the handle
Of her shopping cart
Her right trails along packaged steaks

She picks up a sirloin
And reads the label
She sees blood pooling in a corner
Of the cellophane wrapping
And puts it back

She brushes her brown hair back
And moves with her cart
Along the display case
Peering at the packaged flesh
Red, purple, pink, and grey

She stops at the poultry section
Picks up a package of
Half breasts, legs, and thighs
Some fluid has leaked
And the package is sticky

There is a crack
Then another and another
Like the sound of her husband
Stapling shingles as he
Repaired their roof this summer

She stands with the package in her hand
Staring towards the front
Of the supermarket
Where now the sounds of screaming
Can be heard

People are running
Towards the back of the store
Towards her
Towards the refrigerated case
Where the packaged meat is kept

After the screaming stops
And there is only crying and wailing
She moves with others
Towards the front of the store
She sees blood pooling in a corner


Торговый день

Она смотрит вниз на мясо отображается
В случае охлажденных
Ее левая рука покоится на ручке
Из ее корзине
Ее правая тропы вдоль упакованных стейков

Она поднимает филе
И считывает метку
Видит кровеносной системы в углу
Из целлофановой упаковке
И кладет его обратно

Она чистит коричневого назад волосами
И перемещается вместе с ней корзину
Вдоль витрин
Вглядываясь в упакованном плоти
Красный, фиолетовый, розовый, и серый

Она останавливается в разделе птицы
Поднимает пакет
Половина груди, ногах и бедрах
Некоторые жидкости просочилась
И пакет является липким

Существует трещина
Потом еще и еще
Как звук ее мужа
Сшивание черепицы, как он
Отремонтировали крышу этим летом

Она стоит с пакетом в руке
Глядя вперед
В супермаркете
Куда теперь звуки кричащих
Может быть услышанным

Люди бегут
К задней части магазина
к ней
К Витрина холодильная
Где упакованное мясо хранится

После остановки кричала
И есть только плакать и плач
Она двигается с другими
К передней части магазина
Она видит объединение крови в углу