Jeff Weddle

Right Here

Not far from where you sit, right now,
just a mile or two away,
there is a house
you never really notice.
It has white, vinyl siding,
a small porch, a basement.
A single rose bush decorates the front yard.
Not far from you there is a man
sitting in a chair and savoring
the weight of a gun in his hands.
It might be a new gun
or something he’s had forever.
Maybe it was his inheritance
from a careless father
or he bought it from the back of a van
or at a gun show.
Depending on where you are,
the man might be holding
a semi-automatic rifle
or a .22 caliber pistol
or maybe a .357 Magnum.
Not far from you, a woman,
or child, or man stands, oblivious,
in a kitchen, maybe chopping onions, 
or on a sidewalk,
or is maybe entering a school or movie theater.
A commonplace horror
will happen very soon.
It will happen so close to where you are,
right this second,
that a stray bullet
could come through your window
or even a wall
and take you the fuck out.
Or it might take out your child,
your wife, your dog.
You have always
held that “Guns don’t kill people.
People kill people.”
What about when your own baby
has been shredded
by high caliber bullets?
What about when you don’t even know
you are screaming
until someone puts a needle in your arm?
But you still have a little time
before it all goes down, so relax.
Drink your coffee and don’t think
about your neighbors.
Look out your window at America.