Dendrochronology of a Gun
A Poem by Claire Campo
Play the one about the Chinese Buddhist alchemist,
about charcoal, honey, saltpeter & sulfur
The first firework, whose eyes awed to wonder, under what moon
what sky did they collide?
Skip to track 13, all flintlock and blunderbuss,
burning match lit fuse of who decided you could die like this?
Some metalsmith. In Kentucky, Ohio, or Pennsylvania.
Improved aim (hunting game)
Play the song of the First Bullet and the First Deer,
what music they make turned militia.
To the tune of a minute to load a single shot.
What sound does the armory make?
Knowing it holds only steel death,
only the fated ricochet of no home.
Track 1776. Deringer, Remington,
Eli Whitney with the moving parts,
no dance for this flint, it's 1836,
it’s Colt 45 and two zig-zags.
It's how a rabbit runs, knows it is prey
zig-zags threat evasion, to tire the predator.
A rabbit can run up to 30 mph,
bullets don’t get tired.
2700 miles an hour,
three times faster than an airplane.
I can't translate flying.
Don’t run in a straight line.
Track 45: A double-barrel shotgun
wasn't fast enough.
The Browning automatic rifle was in style for
Bonnie and Clyde and WW2.
Track 47: Iraq, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan,
Boston marathon, Ukraine, Gaza.
There are no small wars, no small worlds
Track 19: A school shooting isn't loud enough for anyone to hear,
how we rationalize the sound of something familiar popped plastic bag,
backpack dropping, mental illness.
Silence doesn’t do it justice.
Play the one about the NRA
go ahead, I’ll wait.
Play the one about Uvalde how they waited,
to the tune of 2700 miles an hour
to the tune of Kalashnikov
did you know an AK-47 can live for 20-40 years?
Easy to relocate and reuse.
Kalashnikov, a slave of god, of gun. He says he sleeps soundly
He’s dead now too no man’s god is a gun.
Play the one about the ...
Was it fireworks or a gun?
Listen for the cadence
Claire Campo is a poet, actor, and teaching artist whose work pushes boundaries in form and language. Co-founder of Poetic Justice, a literacy and poetry program for carceral settings, Claire’s surreal, experimental style explores identity and cultural memory. Their short film, i love you like science, received the Linklater Award for Best Dialogue at the Austin Arthouse Film Festival, and their poetry has appeared in This Land Press, Emerge Magazine, New Words Press, and Super Present Magazine. Of Mohawk, French, and Dutch descent, Claire is dedicated to revitalizing Indigenous narratives as a member of the Six Nations of the Grand River.
