Charcoal on paper

Signed on the front.

She did it!
That one
Not that one, that one
Got em good

An arrow of flesh
Informs the attention where to go
Unlimited, unless it misses
Trustworthy, for the moment
Shoot it off, hit the target
Another bullseye

A mother says
Don’t point, it’s rude
Unless when it’s not
Is it rude now? Just do as I say

And so the conductor
Play’s the role to perfection
Pointing out the actors not doing their part
Not upholding the play
Sentencing the ones
Who dare put a kink in the queue

What mask will you wear today
John the saint
Sam who paints
Winner, loser or perhaps
The ambivalent chooser

Either way there is a crosshair
Embellished with your name,
Your occupational constitution
Your lunch, and the shame of your shame
But don’t worry, it’s just a game
And when you point it out
You play it all the same