There is a madman from Montana

in the Capitol today.

He has murdered two policemen

and scared debate away.

The seat of world democracy,

home of all that's just and free,

is rattled by the rattle

of a crazy gunman's spree.

High and mighty superpower,

frail in its deepest bower,

frozen by the manic glower,

as freedom's price is paid.

Commentary

This was written some time ago, but recent shootings led me to post it again. It is one of the newsy pieces that I do. Gun use is a bit of a preoccupation of mine. The constitutional right to bear arms has always struck me as a bizarre 'freedom'. I think that the British constraint on gun ownership is too intrusive on individuals, but to enshrine the ownership of guns into the constitution is odd in the context of the twenty first century.

I support written constitutions, but they are set in a particular historic time and that does present problems of how you entrench provisions to protect the constitution at the same time as having the flexibility to adapt to changing needs. The American right to bear arms was in the context of people's militias and a newly emergent government whose writ did not run uniformly throughout the country.

I often have strong rhyme and rhythm in my poems, particularly with this type of subject matter. Although it probably smacks of Victorian melodrama, I think it is a useful way of gaining attention and it gives additional impact to the polemic.

I wasn't sure about the changing rhyme scheme in the last stanza, but each time I come back to it the pace of the first three lines and then the sudden change for the value judgement at the end seems right so I have left it.