He would rather watch
Anthony Bourdain
drink himself silly on
a layover in Atlanta
or some exotic place
than all those shot,
mutilated, annihilated on
TV shows as entertainment
without even having had
the benefit of drinking a drop
of booze or ingesting
delicious, delectable
delights for thirty-six
hours with Tony before
he takes off for another
gun free destination.
If they had, they might be
alive today.
It seems like he can’t
watch a dramatic series
except something on
PBS without staring
down the barrel of
another assault weapon.
And a question came to
his mind. Did any of
those scrawny, skinny
frail looking teenagers
or twenty something
boys with volcanic rage
get an idea out of the
most popular show on
TV – NCIS or its West
Coast cousin or Criminal
Minds to aid and abet
their own criminal minds?
It’s not a beautiful day in
the neighborhood, these
days. He wonders where
Mr. Rogers is when you
need him?