day ONE HUNDRED and THIRTY TWO

the worst

i wake up expecting the worst

i check the new york times

the washington post, cnn

and fox new (for balance)

before the sleep is even out of my eyes

as if it were par for the course

we live in heavy times

we live with madmen waving flags

and running freedoms into the dirt

we’ve made their brutality

as common as a cup of coffee

a little headline to flip past on your phone

so maybe you shouldn’t expect

to take your kids to see some pop star sing

and make it home alive

watch out for the flying shrapnel

as the keyboard ends and the pink balloons fly

maybe an evening filled with security

is simply too much to ask for these days

at least twenty-two dead in manchester

add that to the twenty dead in sandy hook

add it to the hundreds of thousands in syria

in iraq, in afghanistan, in africa, take it all the way

back to those planes slamming into our collective ego

go back as far as you can

start counting the bodies

in a mathematical quagmire of carnage

that would drive einstein mad

try and figure out what kind of animal you are

look at the monster on the other side of the mirror

that allows this circus of blood to move on

suck down the capitulation like a latte

flip over to the sports page for some solace

binge watch it all away

but brace yourself for the next big hit

because it’s coming whether you want it or not

like the bridge to a top 40 hit

that’s stuck in your head

and won’t leave…no matter what you do.

--John Grochalski