A kid makes a finger gun
With hammer thumb
To fire at passing traffic,
From the cover of his bunker bus stop;
In America he’d be an active shooter
****, they have names for it over there,
Here he’s just a ******* nuisance;
His shelter advertises a deodorant
Shaped just like and called bullet
Perhaps some subliminal message
Has entered his head
The power of advertising, the power of death.
For a deodorant that advocates love and attraction
It’s a strange message.
