Hanque O . . . - The Copperhead. Summer

I blew his head off with my twenty-gauge,
It was on my porch, endangering my son.
Still, I would have rather not, for it was only sunning.
At the time its intent was lost on me.
The simple truth is that we destroy innocents
Casually, with disregard, as it fits our need.
On the road we flatten squirrels, massacre
Entire fleets of bugs, fill the grills with lovely butterflies
Just in from Costa Rica to meet this fate.
That is as it must be, we live in an aggressive society.
Bugs, squirrels, butterflies, and copperheads must pay the price.
Be not surprised, be not indignant when circumstances
Decree that it is your time to be snuffed out.
Innocent or not, endangering or not, that is as it must be.

Hanque O . . .

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