Pointing Fingers

Pointing fingers

With a sight on my cuticle, I aim.

With my thumb, I pull the trigger,

Off flies the bullet of self-righteous

Indignation, armor piercing words.

Occasionally, my middle finger double-

Barrels the sinister device.

From behind my Constitution:

  History and activism at odds,

Free from hopelessness. 

With a sight on the tv screen, I aim

At far off combatants, enemies a

World away, with others’ automatics,

With others’ childrens’ fingers, in the

Name of war, in the name of God,

Safe in my bunkered parlor.

With a sight on my canon,

  At them, there.

With a sight on my musket.

With a sight on my rockets

  Red-glaring.

With a sight on my mustard gas.

With a sight on my atomic bomb--

  Nuclear

With a sight on my napalm.

With a sight on my drone,

  At myself.

With a sight on my IED,

  Alas, us.

With the sight removed, I fire.

Indiscriminately, into crowds,

Praying for innocents, collaterals,

Released to heaven too soon--or

Maimed by blunt spreadshot-- blameless

Save proximity to evil and aimlessness.

From behind my rights:

  Civil, human, endowed, to live,

Freed from hopelessness.

With a sight on my privileged fear

From within my safest garrison,

Behind words, behind warriors, 

Behind crusaders and jihadists,

Behind demagogues and tribal chiefs:

Fire! I change tides, scorching earth.