he pulls another 
trigger//gunshot brother 

like swallowing 
birds--
blue jay 
blue jay
a dive bomb down
my throat--
sky-- a shadow puppet--
we--the silhouettes 
of hands projected 
on god's bed room
ceiling--
earth shook--
recoil-- we
watch an avalanche 
rewind--
boulders
back into place
& there is my 
brother holding a 
gun-- shooting
a gun--
he doesn't aim--
there's bullet-hole
wounds
in the clouds--
they stagger home--
they cry
mother mother--
as they bleed rain--
as they shake
in each other's 
arms-- look
what you've done--
you've brought
grey into the 
bedroom ceiling--
how am i supposed
to sleep with the
echoing of
each gun shot--
ricochet bullets--
each star rings--
pinball machine--
i am that little
silver
ball-- that little
silver ball 
in the pinball machine--
in gun barrel--
Billy pulls the trigger--
& suddenly it's a water
gun &
no one is afraid
anymore-- imagine
if it was always a 
water gun-- 
a man standing
at Los Vegas with 
a water gun--
a hotel room full
of water guns-- 
dead bodies 
from water guns--
their bodies
melting
into dew-- we
people of morning
dew & sun-shower--
that's how easy we break
isn't it?
& the sky didn't bleed--
not yet--
& there couldn't
never have 
been enough triggers--
& I was a child--
we were children--
barefoot backyard 
July--
dropped water balloons
from the deck
on Billy's head--
below my feet 
earth shook--
who know a water
balloon could
also be a fire bomb
striking Tokyo--
match stick head 
people--
flames scalding 
feet--
who taught us to
play with such weapons?
who fills 
a bomb with fire?
we say-- it
was water--
it was always 
a water
gun--
& the sun recoils 
& laying in my room
i look
up at the shadow
puppets marching
to war on my
ceiling--
i hear the faint
but clear
snap of
my brother's gun--
he's just 
shooting--
there's nothing
to aim at--
there's only
a row of trees 
taking shrapnel
in their knees--
i am the silver 
ball-- 
i'm lodged in 
soft damp earth
it's quiet 
there finally--
i'm laying on
bed &
my ceiling
starts to 
bleed-- clear
rain--
i tell it to
stop-- i tell
the ceiling
that there's nothing
wrong with guns--
they're only
full of
water--
it's just like
rain--
it's just like
rain--
i say
as the walls
shake of these 
reverberations--
is that 
church bells?
someone
knocking 
this time of night?
i swallow
another flock
of blue jays--
becks & claws
scratching my 
all the way
all the way down--
he pulls another
trigger