Scream and Scream
He called Hitler the good guy He wanted arms of every ordnance for the proudly uneducated especially He thought everyone would only ever be aiming where he said His grip unrelinquishing on the hilt of supremacy fetish His madness magnified by mic Rehabilitating the reputation of poor, misunderstood nazis Polishing genocide and slavery up so the back rows couldn't miss their gleam Never admitting it once if it made any part of him scream and scream Gunned down by they/them's red-seeing lover taking revenge for them after their unsparing recounting of all the memories always playing behind their eyes of everyone who outnumbered and beat them down for sneaking into the right bathroom their tormenters said was the wrong one All who said in every way a crowd could they were irredeemably ill with spirit sickness All who commanded "Die or kill yourself!" "Die for your pronouns if they're so important to a thing of no importance A thing not to care about while deciding how to cure." What tortures they tried as treatment to make the shooter's sunshine act like most people Like everyone always should Like deforming their selfhood might make them stop saying they were someone who didn't match their physical form Like they'll behave if made to imagine assorted vermin boring into their body parts if they consider possibilities other than male or female Maybe they won't feel so fluid after anyone who will speak to them defines for them the clear boundaries of their cage of shame Maybe they'll answer to whatever their jailers call them then and forget knowing themselves by their liberated name The assassin's mind full of murder to think of the love of their life being called "It" until finally they couldn't feel it Feeling like an it himself without any intact components when his bullet hit, making a home where it shouldn't have Where it will mean punishment for more and more of us for this gift wrapped justification Not all of us pulled the trigger but none of us were likely surprised by it Wishing we could be surprised anymore by the next atrocity slavering from the forboding felt all over manifesting right on schedule we can't convince ourselves we're blameless for not disrupting Reactionaries warpathing convinced by bright flash of long simmering animus now fully unsettled By bodying someone's baby boy Even a victim corrupt and corrupting leaves behind those who remember them innocent Wailing of a hate-monger's family is as inconsolable and answer hungry as any Their grief as valid to them as any carried for any saint ever glorified In the days ahead her son's monstrous beliefs the hate-monger's mother will learn of and be driven to her knees by A mother who keeps flashing back to her son dead wearing the face of the newborn she can't stop seeing him as No matter the hateful truths forced upon her by the news until the news is altered by fascism's noose All believers in any Leftist ideology in danger now All branded the enemy from within The witches of moral rot The bastards who didn't win because word got around they're pedophiles for the devil Invading real Americans even in potholes where no one with money still lives It gets easier to rack kill after libtard kill after the MAGA mob's fully red pilled and understands anyone who disagrees with them must be a deep state alien They're called Reptilians and that's explanation enough unless you're a sympathizer to be committed to dust You can snag a fingernail on their skinsuits Unspool them openly at Wawa or the Rose Garden but wherever they infiltrate, it's easier to shoot them to ribbons and not have to get an up close look at steaming guts of unzipped abominations If they hate us all violence is our fault They say it and say it, trying with each shot to believe it Belief will reward their swift action eventually "We must be right" their vainglorious leader says "cos I don't hear any argument from the dead" But back to the shooter who made us all targets The hair trigger shared by too much of humanity The fact they, too, started life innocent No record of harming anyone before their fuse was lit by realizing the extent to which their partner was forced to margins and called sick Called crazy whenever they started making any kind of sense to themselves because they couldn't explain themselves to uncurious faces that stayed flat and grim-lipped having already decided that thinking about it at any length would render their immortal soul forfeit which they cut off their damn selves portion by portion each time they tried to beat their child into being a boy or strapped them down for electroshock therapy to teach them to forget feeling like a girl When his easily accessed firearm rerouted the onward march of America's history did it make his love feel like a person again, for an instant, before flinching as far away as possible from facing what personhood would feel like now Did he believe only this could make clear to the country his dear heart's humanity That they'd be safer now that it was known that in their corner was someone who could hate as loud as the bullies who followed them around Someone who could be just as vicious, just as easily Just a clear line of sight and clear conscience sacrificed to make the statement that justice for the victimized will be applied A retribution resounding and violent to unleash worse from the rest of us if we let it Oh martyr maker, deserving vitriol, deserving condemnation, deserving compassion Long memory and long penance, robust defense and less defensiveness from each of us who still thinks the most lethal danger is admitting any fault in our side as all sides splinter into ever more radical subgroups Encamp and encamp again within our encampments Firing over the shoulders of the less ideologically pure in the firefights Accepting more and more easier and easier as acceptable losses while bidding them good morning or gossiping over the plentiful rations piled up for just such a doomsday Just the kind our fever-brained generals wished and wished for Here at last, oh glory yes, here at last More and more lines to divide us into deeper and deeper emptiness More convoluted hills to die on by the day anymore Notching body counts on belts Believing more than ever the next one we kill will finally prove something That there's virtue in wanting some folks dead so much that you forget they were ever good neighbors That hearing rumor of them means they're getting too close again What brazen provocation existing as if not needing sanction It will become a joke that any further justification is needed Kill more harder until all agree with us What is it anyone left agrees on again That we must avoid at all costs turning out to be the most wrong That we are righteous because we turned so easy, in the end, against anyone Even those our own skin color our own orientation, even many who claimed our same religion kindled their faith That we will all pretend forever all the bloodshed saved us from something deadlier than circular firing squads That we won't admit spending every quiet moment from now on wondering if we or anyone who risks approaching us and sitting with us for a spell is ever safe from us for even a spell Agree to say only foreigners can become fluent in forked tongue Agree to claim we don't lose all of ourselves after executing someone else for forsaking what was innocent in themselves The terror becoming transactional Promised perfect genetics will return to power Control assured to every disciple by retribution's overlord of a fiefdom each of ruins and shreds "By all means" He'll grant from his gold-plated jet flying over "Make anything of your murder mound that crosses the tiny cold stone of your mind!" All the Hell spreading block to block overrunning hideouts where the block before's survivors huddle All because so many terrorized some every time they eeked an inch out of hiding All because no one defended them for so long when conversion therapists abducted them to warp and disfigure their mind and soul til identity crumbled before being discovered because those who denied them the chance to know themselves couldn't bother to know them All who they dared dream could love them if they were brave who couldn't, who didn't, and soon hurled at them the same epithets the rest did, sorry for it, maybe, but too terrified to ever say so All because of him, yes, the individual who decided on the wrong action on behalf of someone scarred by a sadistic series of wrong actions Because he broke for them and couldn't care if he broke society ending one hateful, loud bigot beckoning his audience to construct concentration camps As if that one bigot wore every boot that fell on his better half by malevolence or failure to notice Like they could be expected to know any difference anymore as attacks came even from their own government As the president sought to illegalize their existence in additional contexts Like they're more contagious than COVID Their existence reviled by patriots Unspeakable in more places than anyone could remember to avoid in advance "You take refuge in the wrong spot again, whatever you are" The Head of State in their nightmares says "and you'll end up resting just deep enough to not be an eyesore. An abomination out of sight, out of mind Marring no real American's view anymore!" So easily so many drowned every voice within them shrieking all at once TURN AWAY FROM THIS!!! Retaliation for retaliation's sake is a pit that will widen 'til all is the pit and that seems ever sweeter in its savage simplicity to what's left of us "Why, anyone could think of this!" The last survivor's husk says, no longer capable of feeling amused or exasperated "Leadership is easy!" They revert back to congratulating themselves "I'm in charge now, I reckon" "Will these severed limbs serve me coffee?" "Will God thank me for eliminating all those less devout with brainless bodies I can match back and forth, back and forth?" "We could have gotten here so much easier and faster if everyone had volunteered at the start to push everyone else in" "If everyone was as right minded as I am and no one faltered in the early days before shoving rows of simpering soft bellies off sin's ultimate edge or making a bleeding heart watch their heart bleeding out" "More glory for me, though, Sovereign Lord of the Pit Unquenchable!" "Is it my rightful bliss I always knew my special DNA deserves rising from the pit, echoing out?" "It must be! In I go now, down and down, singing my jubilance that never hits ground!"