The Cost

By Cameron Jury Based on Parkland, Sandy Hook, and Columbine “Hello, I am looking to buy a gun. Can you help me?” “Of course! I can start by telling you About our top sellers. Our crowd favorite is the AR-15; Known for its easy rapid re-fire, Holds a 20 round magazine, And is customizable. Its … More The Cost

This Second

By Claire Neubert school bus: Prison Detail on the front Two Kroger water jugs sloshing over potholes Tattooed skin against pink trees and still air-switching the sign from drive slow to stop: safety first.   One lane road and the smell of burning leaves and a fading fall. Frogs croak-cicada whirls, vultures move out of … More This Second

Parkland

By Clayre Benzadon May bells, may bells continue chiming Mary’s tears— nursery myrtle used to crown heroes. Today, lemon- grass summer pools deceive more than usual. Nursery chimes sound like firehammers, when they work. They can blow a skull, bash a fragment of gunmetal, steel a teacher—a teacher always has their students’ backs. That’s how … More Parkland

She Was Instructed to Hide Inside a Locker

By Sheila Squillante —for my daughter, after Parkland     Dear teacher, my daughter is terrified Dear locker, yellow metal, filled Dear blood on the floor. It’s how things are. Dear locked door My daughter is supposed to++++++++++++++++++++++++hide inside. Dear bullets that tore through your +++++++++++organs. Dear dear. Dear boy holding shut the door and … More She Was Instructed to Hide Inside a Locker

CHEKHOV’S LAW

by Mary Volmer A performance poem for three actors. 1, 2, and 3 stand in a row, each holding behind her back a small scroll filled with names of people killed by gun violence. Very little movement except in their faces and voices, and in the eventual unfurling of the scrolls. The stage is bare. … More CHEKHOV’S LAW

Scales

By Cintia Santana “How Does This Compare with Other Mass Shootings? —New York Times, June 12, 2016 On one hand, I hold the iPhone, all news made small, and on the other, your hand, by which I also mean the memory of your breath, tracing my face as morning opened around us. How do I … More Scales