The Problem
a poem further reflecting on the death of Charlie Kirk
Ask me how it feels to profit off a man's death.
I'll show you five dollars and some change
while his wife sells t-shirts, a sketched halo over his head.
His body still in a casket above ground is used as his rhetoric was before
for profit, for control, for all the things for which he sold his soul,
but I'm the problem,
Jimmy Kimmel is the problem,
Starbucks baristas are the problem,
and the witch hunt continues
with look what they did demands for accountability
from anyone but the man responsible for pulling the trigger now that they know
he reflects what they see in the mirror.
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More stories from Kay Husnick and writers in Poets and other communities.
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Comments (2)
Oh, damn. This is extremely relatable, assuming this is partly about vocal giving you "top story" money for writing about Charlie Kirk's death... I had very similar thoughts and worries and guilt when some of my thoughts on his death were highlighted the same way. It's a very uncomfortable feeling-- I can't and won't mourn for a guy who was quite clearly using his platform to harm people and spread hate. But getting money for those thoughts just feels strange and icky and tacky. like the miniature version of what I disliked about him to begin with: his willingness to profit off violence and division. Still I think writing a blog post or poem about your thoughts and getting unasked for money for it is a far cry away from what his widow seems to be doing, grifting his death as a boon for profit. The selling t-shirts line is such an exact dig, feels like pretty damning stuff. Not the kind of thing you wanna make money off of.
Oof—this one cuts deep. Raw, honest and brutally spot-on. You turned reflection into confrontation here.