Bulletproof

Written By Glenn McCrary & Matia Theodosakis

I am unphased by the snobbish remarks
That escape from these strangers mouths
Not a single syllable ignites a spark
The ignorance I’m able to live without
Their words fly like bullets in motion
With such a speed I can not list
But when these bullets reach me
Their power ceases to exist

For these bullets have little meaning
No pain leaves no scars
They can not reach me
For I have landed on Mars
Still I continue living life
Such sentences make no sense
For I am bulletproof
This shield is my defense

My father is painting his walls, now that it’s late.
And there’s white on his arms as he reaches
And covers the stains of his wife’s old paint
With his broken phone and crooked chair -
The fences he built high and white like stems.
Once he walked too far out, and stumbled
On a new nest of quail. He watched them,
He watched them long while, and wept.

My son is living with the girl he recently met.
He’s got his elbows dipped in blue ink
And burns the thin letters with cigarettes
And that lovely ash settles on his lips.
He says to the girl “It matters little, it matters not.”
And goes on smoking by the yellow couch.
As the young boys on bikes pass by and talk
Words thrown quick and forgotten on the dirt.