Two black birds flutter outside the window as the teacher
Discusses Gatsby. Dead in the pool
With the blood seeping into the water.
Black duffel bags, Wilson in the bushes
Blood on the cement, the holocaust complete.
Runners running, but not for the right reasons.

Bang. Smoke cloud, everyone upset.
Screaming, pleading, dying, drowning.
But who will come to the funeral, Gatsby?
Poor America is sad with violence.
Bang. An eight year old, a godless car mechanic?

Their world is destroyed by metal shrapnel,
Angry words, and violent actions.
You may fool me, but you can’t fool God.
As the sun paints red over the Boston skyline,
And the black clock stands still,
Daisy is gone and we are borne back ceaselessly
Into the past.

United we stand, united we fall.
We will fight.
We will fight.
Glance back and they are gone,
Only the memory in my mind remains:
Two dark patches in an otherwise lovely view.