I don’t read the paper
But mornings I bring in the library copy
And on the front page is the U.S. ambassador
Lying in the arms of a Libyan cititzen
Like Jesus lying in the arms of his mother
After being taken down from the cross.

I don’t watch the news
But the TV in the staff room is on
Replaying and replaying the explosion.
The screams. The bloodied ground.
I receive a work email to fly the flag half mast
A proclamation signed by Mr. President.

I don’t follow online media news networks
But I’m reading my personal social media feed
Friends and family expressing sorrow
And outrage and confusion over the shootings
Celebrities and public figures hashtagging
#prayforNewtown, another Columbine, another Virginia Tech.

You might see a photo of me in the newspaper one day
Would you lower the flag for so the entire city can see
That tragedy on that site from that link and it happened to that girl.

The violence affects all of us—
Oozes and percolates like a thick jelly of blood
Congealing from a liquid and refusing to go away.
The violence of old in books are pressed between closed pages
Among the aisles of reluctant students and dusty nonfiction
But the fear is now and very real

If we do nothing to stop the violence.