The Conversation

Weapons of mass destruction kill thousands or thirty-two.

How can you measure the forces of sadness, loss and grief?

How does it feel standing - facing - a bullet-exploding door

Trying to save your own life?



Sometimes we think that wouldn't be so bad

But scary even with our approval.

I wonder if we would take it personally,

That someone wanted to kill us - whoever we might be?



I like to think that my heroism would bust out saving all

Even if it was time for me to go away.

It's easy to be brave and heroic with words.

How does it feel facing steely dead killing eyes?



I would have, of course, tried to talk to the shooter,

To help him work through his anger issues and anxieties.

We would sit together over a beer and chat.

I would tell him why it wasn't a good idea to kill people.



I would of course request all people go safely elsewhere,

So that the shooter and I could talk without distraction.

I would ask him why he wanted to kill others

When he could just commit suicide and float gently away.



He would tell me they all deserved it, those people,

And why he was angry with them and they had to die.

I would ask him if he wanted company during his death;

I would ask him why he felt that would help, him.



The shooter and I would relax more from the beer

And from our good conversation about anger and hate.

The shooter would lean back and sigh, perhaps he would look confused;

I would ask the shooter how he felt.



The shooter would tell me he felt better and he wished he had talked to me before

Before he decided to kill those people who walked by his life

I would feel the shooter's pain deep in my gut and my heart would hurt

And then I would kill him with his own gun.


-judi

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