I can still hear it
the sound ringing in my ears as I ran
This can’t be real
Then, I heard the shell 
hit something and drop to the ground
It was real.
I still remember
the preceding moments
they play back in my head
like a movie that perpetually 
rewinds itself and replays itself
the cool crisp night air filling my lungs
as I walked down Jersey Avenue
carefree
my nightly trek to the deli
to buy cigarettes
I marveled at the autumn leaves
the great old trees that lined the street
American flags descending from
prewar brownstones
in the neighborhood I called home
my safe haven
Nothing bad ever happens here
As I reached the corner
I noticed him waiting there
patiently on a bicycle
two cold eyes beaming with hostility
forcing me to look away
Don’t look scared
I turn to him and nod
to avoid the appearance of fear
Only to see that hateful glare
emanating from beneath a
hooded sweatshirt
don’t look scared
Keep walking
Pick up the pace but be subtle
so he doesn’t think 
I’m walking any faster
Don’t let him see me looking back
out of the corner of my eye
Why is he starting to pedal?
Is he moving in my direction?
Don’t let him see me 
picking up the pace again
Don’t provoke him
by coming across like I‘m nervous 
Maybe he’s just riding his bike 
at 4 in the morning
Don’t let him get too close
Don’t let him see me
looking back again
out of the corner of my eye
He’s two feet away
He’s too close
What’s that silver… gun?!?!
I’m already Running
It must be fake
Run 
Too fast to hear him
mumbling something about 
wanting all my money
Too late I’m halfway across the street
then I hear it
that loud sound you only hear 
on television, in movies
He fired the gun
It must be blanks
Nobody would fire real bullets at someone
then came
that one eternal split second 
when I heard the shell
hitting a wall or something 
and falling to the ground
I knew it was real.
Don’t stop. Keep running.
My legs moving faster 
than I can comprehend
Don’t Stop Keep Running
Look back but Don’t Slow Down
I couldn’t see him
He seemed gone but I kept running
until I reached a deli and hid 
behind the counter
and told the clerk to call 911
WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED TO ME?
WHAT ALMOST JUST HAPPENED TO ME?
How could this happen HERE?
This wasn’t a dream!
This wasn’t a movie!
This isn’t a poem!
This was the longest two minutes of my life.
Two months later, 
I’m far away from where this happened
I ran out of that city, out of that apartment
all the way home to mom and dad
and the comfort of matzo ball soup
But will I ever escape the experience?
Will I ever escape that relentless remembrance
that sound still ringing in my ears
the fear that still envelops me
every time I see someone riding a bicycle?
He may have missed,
but what scares me the most is
that the full scope, the physical
and mortal reality of what happened
and more importantly what almost happened,
That truth is a bullet unto itself
and it eventually will hit me
but for now, this couldn’t have happened
not to me, not four blocks from my house
these kinds of things don’t happen
nothing bad could ever have happened there
I only wish I had that much control
over my own memory.
I wish this was just a poem, but it’s not.