Four hours before the hateful act, a sand-colored man visited his sand-colored ex-wife. Each word shared by the couple came with heart-formed emotions. Contritely, as if speaking to Allah, the man wanted absolution for his pending abomination.
Three hours before the hateful act, he visited his sand-colored adult son. Again, compunction dove from the father’s tongue. Submitting to tears, the two waded through a reconciliation.
Two hours before the hateful act, he went to his parents’ graves. Aware that he was speaking to himself, the man thanked them for their love.
One hour before the hateful act, he thought about the clandestine explosive belt under his thawb while entering a secret al-Qaeda headquarters in Jackson Heights, Queens.
Thirty-six seconds before the hateful act, regret did not enter any door in the man’s mind. Content to assassinate terrorists who massacred many people in the aforesaid city and beyond, the man tried to imagine a time unfettered by terrorism.
Tenaciously, Bob McNeil tries to compose literary stun guns and Tasers, weapons for the downtrodden in their effort to trounce oppression. His poems and stories want to be fortresses against despotic politics.
After years of being a professional illustrator, spoken word artist and writer, Bob still wants his work to express one cause—justice.