top of page

Car Bomb - May 19, 2025

  • Gary Hunter
  • May 19
  • 1 min read

a man denotated his car at a

fertility clinic here, two days ago

 

to describe the sound

 

one said like, a lightning strike

close enough to rattle your bones

 

a friend thought a piece of plane

had struck their roof

 

another thought a truck

had slammed their house

 

the first thought I had,

gas leak and house explosion

 

but a bomb feels more irate, it

projects the venom of the bombmaker

 

glass and metal pieces released,

the piercing fury of his words struck

 

with shards to faces, fragments into

arms and legs, the blood message

 

meant nothing to passersby,

nearby diners didn’t get it either

 

as they sat on gurneys they heard,

his own words had blown him away

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Judgements - Dec. 3, 2025

sometimes, I’m the cloud looking around the sky, assessing my own kind   he’s too fat she’s too thin they’re too bossy, that one’s overly shy those are too white, and those not white enough   I dispar

 
 
 
Light's Descent - Nov. 30, 2025

if I could capsulize my life now, it would be late afternoons, a recurring event of time spent staring out the picture window into a quieting backyard, shade chasing the sun’s paintbrush across the wa

 
 
 
Classifieds - Nov. 29, 2025

foreclosed houses, unhoused dogs apartments for rent, souls desperate to rent employment for schemers and dreamers, the mouthless market of buy and sell   a blur of need pinned to a bulletin board eve

 
 
 

Comments


  • facebook

©2020 by Poetry Rock. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page