The first bullet hissed and broke air
spiraling from the rifle barrel; a kiss
adiós blown from atop the Mandalay Bay lair.
A Nevadan reaping concert goers’ bliss;
few shelter from a hail of depleted uranium.
Country music fades from Vegas Village stage
gunfire’s melody, the last note in their craniums
was a grueling testament to this day, this age.
Grotesque what one can do to another.
Sons, mothers, daughters, someone’s father
now just a memory; Vegas’ October
now shadows New York’s September.
Orange flames cast light on picture frame glass,
blissful faces a silhouette of the past.