This moment

I’ll donate you this moment here,

as I stand crying silently in a room full of commotion

over a poor fool who’s coccyx caught a bullet’s motion

and now the cops congregate, jeer

over his self-installed penis-pump,

his rantings about the cars, houses, gangs, Miami tears

embezzled from borders we all share, how his tattoos wear

out over the screams and dump

as he cries out, like any other, for his life.

Before the blood leaves. He will give anything.

Rife with laughter to match bullet bumps,

we stand here, panicked, but I would like to

give this moment to you:

you placid desert, you whirlwind of tears.

You might know how to hold me now

that I have held our dying child, how

I have loved, beguiled: surrendered my fears.