They say:
I can’t imagine 
or
This must be part of God’s Plan
and
He’s in a better place
  
Though as the sister who watched
the silent video footage
  
there were no signs of distress, he waited
in a cold church in March, sitting unarmed
  
before a desk with a sign about freedom for all.
Some images can’t be unseen
  
it’s no help offering clichés like feeding capsaicin
to birds who are immune to the burn of hot peppers.
  
When the word passed is used as a substitute for murder
I want to scream onto a platter of angel cake. Everything happens
  
for a reason: more platitudes they hide
behind to avoid gaping grief. When bullets
  
infest your brother’s body, you don’t see the silver
lining clouds are said to have. You want
  
ten plates of Carolina Reapers. You are crying
over spilled milk. What a showdown:
  
a church emptied, two officers aiming—
always aiming—at a body then shooting
  
until that body stops moving, stealing your somebody
how you never could’ve imagined they’d go.