1.
12:37 EST, October 2, 2017.
WCVE at 88.9 on the dial pre-empts
normal programming.
Radio and smart phone on my lap concur.
58 dead – higher than the 49 at Pulse –
and potentially rising as the day weeps on.
2.
64-year-old Stephen, 32 floors above the crowd,
grabs 23 firearms stored in 10 suitcases.
Country music wails, beer cans hiss,
the Route 91 Harvest Music Fest explodes.
3.
I’ve been here 66-years, 243 days, and 12 hours.
Regularly check the Richmond Times Dispatch obits.
Lived longer than many, not as long as some.
4.
A memory: Driving home from the beach we stop
at the mangled cars. Pulled from the wreckage,
a man screeches as the bone protruding
from his right arm catches on the van door.
I hold another’s hand, whispering hope.
The rest of the drive home, I count.
5 billboards. 4 turning cars.
3 oak trees. 2 eyes. Countless tears.
I sink further into and out of myself.
One, two, three, four, five, six . . . .
Self-care comes in all shapes and sizes.
5.
58 dead.
489 injured.
10 suitcases.
READ MORE
The Aftermath of the Las Vegas Shooting [Los Angeles Sentinel]
Interpreting Tragedy: Photographing the Aftermath of the Las Vegas Shooting [The Washington Post]
Nan Ottenritter is a poet and musician living and writing in Richmond, VA. Her works have appeared in As You Were: The Military Review, Life in 10 Minutes, and The Brillantina Project. She is currently working on a chapbook about Camille Claudel, Rodin’s lover.
Photo by Scott Rodgerson.
