Three Killed in South Central L.A.

"Absurd, irreducible; nothing—not even a profound and secret delirium of nature—could explain [a tree root]."
--La Nausee; Jean-Paul Sartre.

The only thing that depresses
Me more than general existential theory,
Or as Sartre has described it,
The Nausea
Of the conscious, modern mind,
Is specific, physical tragedy:
The all-too-real,
Sudden
Occurrence of something grave
Grabbing you by the actual throat;
Slapping you in the fleshy, exposed face:
Bright blue lips
Foaming,
With dark red,
Almost purplish,
Bloodied saliva,
Pounding:
Crashing on
A cold bed of cement--
Like the freezing rain
Drops
Falling/
Forming
Along the crumbling walls
Of your
Cerebral cortex;
Creaking and
Shouting while
Trying,
In vain,
To grasp
The incalculable math
Responsible for the
Injustice of space-time’s
Indifference to its subjugate
Pillars of mass;
Marooned:
Like a stray
Bullet bouncing off a
Blameless mind’s
Evidently
Flawed fortune;
Shattering both
Corporeal and ethereal realms;
And all the possibilities of Love:
Three killed in South Central L.A.,
Today.