Until It Isn’t

death becomes exciting

tolls, pictures, videos

tweeting carnage

instagramming collapse

hearts racing to break

24-hour entertainment

every glimpse, splinter

and particle of pain

jammed into torsos

and cheekbones

loved ones

want to sit

for a minute

and cry quietly

no words, no poetry

before Internet and

dialed-up emotions

before black and

white ideologies

before a person

I called friend

defended massacres

before the victims

were laid to rest

before chemical weapons

ravaged insides

before refugee

meant grandmother

suffering 2.0

keyboard clicks

like bombs so effortlessly

dropping

all damage collateral

never personal

voyeurs hop on and off

like carnival rides

death becomes

exciting

until it isn’t

until boredom sets in

and desensitization begins

until the next ride emerges

somewhere else

more captivating