The Geometry of a Gunshot
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| Rene Nicole Good |
The Geometry of a Gunshot
In the crisp January light —
a mother of three slides forward
under the indifferent sun,
engine humming like a heartbeat,
trying to wake from nightmare
before she even knows it’s one.
She was a poet,
a voice that listened to quiet things,
a comb of words for her children,
their laughter stitched into her ribs.
They said she weaponized motion,
that a car kernel spinning off the snowy street
was proof of malice.
They gave it a legal name:
Domestic terror,
like it’s more terrifying
to flee federal boots than to fire bullets
into a U.S. citizen’s face.
The bullet arcs — geometry we understood too late —
three cold constellations puncturing bone,
the rhythm of her life unspooling
as voices in cocked chambers
whispered orders she could not parse.
A door reached for,
a window caught in the glare,
the driver’s eyes full of confusion and snow.
They said she threatened,
even as she waved cars past her,
even as she tried to leave,
even as the video says this is not an attack
but please let me go.
Conflicting commands shouted like curses
into the January wind.
Her mother said she was terrified,
the kindest soul in any room,
a voice that soothed before poems did.
Her body will not speak again —
only her name echoes in protests,
in the hollow echo of city streets,
in the refrain: She didn’t deserve this.
And yet, on screens everywhere,
a president repeats the script
of self-defense, of violent threat,
as if bullet holes through flesh
are only algebra for the powerful.
As if compassion is a liability,
and fear is the currency of state.
We carve her into memory now:
not a domestic terrorist,
not a threat,
but a mother, a poet,
a person with breath and verses —
her blood binding the cold pavement.
Somewhere, a six-year-old asks
why someone allowed this
and the sky offers no answer.
Let this not be quiet.
Let outrage rise like spoken word on flame,
let us name the geometry of injustice
and refuse the calculus of silence.
Let her name be a litany
not of fear,
but of unflinching demand:
Justice for Renee Nicole Good.
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