“You aren’t going to treat people like this
Anymore!” the woman bellows inside.
“Pick up your paints, now!” she demands.
A rhythmic beating follows her screaming.
A child endures the blows. Then, silence
On this open-window, sunny May day.
The world is utterly silenced, flattened
By this deafening explosion.
Again, we call the police, report this,
Affirm, yes, we believe a child is in danger;
Yes, we believe the parent is hitting
Her, yes, the child is small, has a sibling.
Yes, drugs, alcohol. Screaming. Silence.
“Thank you.” Silence. No end to violence.
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