Scenes From A Domestic Incident

His arm moves

like a windshield wiper in a downpour ,

cutting and cutting and cutting

cutting all across a wooden doll face ;

sobbing and crying and crying

crying in the corner ,

two young children cowering from the rage ;

blinded by tears choking with emotions

he watches his own hand

redden to crimson ,

he sees a wooden doll figure

crash before his feet ;

a repetitive percussion beat

breaks down the door ,

he remains frozen in a snapshot

of swirling blue and red ;

slowly slowly he turns to wave ,

his expression rendered


by the bullets.

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