wildscape. literary journal

Trigger Warning*
by Ann Weil

On every scrap of paper a trail of ink, and yet,
I can’t write my way out of the pain of this life 
that now includes a nephew’s shooting. 

I have no magic keys to type away the spreading stain,
no perfect pen to stop the next bullet
which is already on its way to a body near you.

I’ll not apologize for this blunt poem— a knife 
that hacks a path through the day’s denial. 

A bullet gets there faster, but my hand 
will hold no gun. How can I explain 
that your own child stands in the same line as ours? 

Do you see me standing in the wind, trying to light 
the match of urgency? I dare you—cup your hand 
alongside mine. Let the spark catch. Let the guns melt.



*for Troy Forbush and seven fellow students at Michigan State University.

about the author // Ann Weil