Untitled. Poem About "My Place" & the Newtown Shootings.

The day before the Newtown shooting, I wanted to write a poem about my favorite place to escape to when life was getting away from me, or just to be alone, or whatever. I was also listening to my favorite band play a concert in NY over SiriusXM radio. And well, it's kind of hard to write a poem about a calm place when you're listening to a live punk rock concert. I thought I would write it the next day. And well, obviously, I didn't. I was itching to write it today, for whatever reason. It's set the day of the shooting but all else is very, very real and accurate.

Yesterday I listened to my favorite band

sing “All I Want For Christmas Is An AK-47.”

Today I watched in horror as 20 children

were gunned down with an assault rifle.

I read an article last week that stated,

“Atheists don’t deal well with death.”

I threw up in the in the shower today.

I guess crying and puking in the shower

is an okay way to deal with death.

I wanted to write about

my favorite get-away place yesterday.

Today I just want to be there.

It’s at its best in winter.

Then it’s quite, unless you count

the wind running through the trees;

I don’t, I like that sound.

Down a hill along a gravel road,

a little walkway across the water

to a wooden dock. I can sit

out there for hours.

Just me.

I can look out on the lake, and only see a

fisherman or two. No one

to deal with or worry about.

Calm, things make more sense.

I wish I was there today.

I wish I could make sense of today.