You are a gun shop

where all of the guns

wish that they were paint brushes

sold in an art supply store

where hoards of people flock each time a ban

on semiautomatic art is announced.


These brush-toting citizens go to painting ranges

to practice their brush strokes.

Fathers teach their children the proper way to hold a paint brush,

to reconcile the weight of an object more powerful

than the person holding it.



there will be an accidental painting,

when a child discovers his father’s art kit

and inadvertently discharges a round of acrylic

into his friends tiny chest.

Small heart, lungs, body filling with unimaginable brilliance

he can barely contain.


Armed robbers burst into the bank lobbies taking everyone hostage

at brushpoint,

nervously shouting:

“Reach for the sky!

Every angel is terrible!”

give me all of your inspiration!”


Gangs form to represent their own unique art movements.

Impressionists and Realists are bitter rivals.

Abstract-expressionists are ruthless.

Turf wars and riots break out in the middle of the streets

for the mere need of color alone

in episodes of senseless creation.

The aftermath reveals large-scale tributes

to Jackson Pollock

and Lee Krasner.


Let’s not forget about the religious extremist,

terrorist, or mentally deranged

who go on random painting sprees

with a veritable arsenal

of art supplies

leaving behind scores of innocent bystanders to wallow in a pool

of their own watercolors.


Politicians on the left argue in favor of strict art control.

Politicians on the right argue that art restrictions

are an infringement on our second amendment right

to keep and bear arts


Some go as far as to argue that crime would actually go down

if everyone owned a paintbrush.


All of the guns

inside of this the gun store,

dream of being held

by an aspiring artist ready to render a masterpiece

hand trembling at the weight,

finger on the trigger

beauty bursting

out the end of the barrel.