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Poem: Truckloads of Thoughts and Prayers

Michael Leon

Abishai Ribble

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The dump truck arrives; you knew it would

 

In the bed, old words written in the dust and soot and rust, clean me

Despite its cargo: thoughts and prayers

 

The truck is in a cloud of exhaust and rot.

Broken transmission, food for thought

 

It’s dented on the sides

Most of the paint is gone

The truck is so old it won’t always turn on

 

The windows are cracked

The tires are flat

The old truck becomes the home of a rat

 

We — students, teachers, victims — back up

As this load beeps into the school

It’s unaware it doesn’t have what we want

 

Regardless, the bed flips out

And dumps thoughts and prayers

And they remain a messy heap in the parking lot

 

This shooting affected us all

But the government won’t do anything

It will, however, abandon us with thoughts and prayers.

 

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Poem: Truckloads of Thoughts and Prayers