At first
I do not hear the bangs
over my music.
I turn and see a boy
pressed against a corner
aiming his phone at me
tapping the screen to make
gunshots.
He probably does not know
that I do not like my music
interrupted by gunfire
or that a week ago
a club called Pulse
was filled with stopped hearts
or that I am gay
and will be going to a bar later
hoping to leave alive with
somebody and will settle for
myself.
All he knows is that
he wanted to pretend
to shoot a stranger and
in America that is
his right.
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