Gun Poem by Dosvedanya Rashia

gun!

bu hao!

They scream at one another

across the street, a chinese woman

her hair dyed red

some faceless man

Cherry blossoms along the path

Of New York City.


I didn't know

that there could be

any flaws in their superior culture

But as I watched with admiration, I saw merely

human imperfection.


I hear then the sound

of a gun. The echoing report

a hateful noise, as awful

as the words. Ducking down to hide

The crowd runs like a flood of water,

Through the lines of yellow cabs, sirens sound

as the screaming rabbits terrified of fire

push past each other, in desperation

of staying alive

Where is my king, and my land?

The flights of the wild geese?

I do not like this place.

Please take me away