POLITICAL Poem: Please don’t shoot, by Peter Cook

Bright blue pistol
See through plastic
White tubes inside
Bright orange tip, for safety.
There he is, six years
Of ear to ear enthusiasm
With every squeeze
Of the trigger,
Painting the sidewalks
A darker shade of grey
As we walked, him ahead
And me behind,
Searching for arid bad guys
And making little rivers
Of water or lava
As he hopscotches
Over the cracks in the sidewalk.
I scan the doorways
And every car that drove by
Waiting for the Crazy neighbor
Or over zealous homeowner
Protecting their property
From a six year old tresspasser.
I keep my eyes peeled
And hold my breath
When the cop car drives by.

Author: poetryfest

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