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.
Otherwise,
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.