Coy and Beguiling

the kiss of death awaits
youngsters of twenty, fresh from lollipop fields
smack dab in the middle
of theater complexes sprung up
in farmers’ fields
at the blunt edge
of town where white flight scared
the bejesus out of mom and dad
and plastic-sealed homes rolled
up hills and down quaint
country roads until the smoke
of cities disappeared but the reach
of hatred grabbed boys ready for mating and
sent them off to holy places
looking for Jesus and hoping
for salvation,
each attack gunnery whooping
noodles strung like
fire in black skies melting
brains, sanctifying holy ground.