Elegy in May

We have been angels
sold in the marketplace,
bouncing light and metal edges,
cheap pretty talismans of unfortunate saints.

We have been anointed.

We have been tin
beaten into flimsy shields.

We have been thirty sweeps of the second hand,
time enough to turn away.
Close the door.
Turn out the lights.
Go home and weep.

We have been words
tumbled progeny of slick tongues.
one after another after another
after another after another
after another.

On and on.
For Christ’s sake–
will we never stop?

We have been bullets.
We have been guns.

We have been silence.