Saturday, July 11, 2020

day TWELVE HUNDRED and SEVENTY ONE


THESE DAYS

I should be hooked up to a Xanex IV
with a thought eraser to rub out
all that feeds the escalating fear.
I need selective input to filter out
the unstoppable flood of fascism
sweeping through the capitol, through
what feels like the entire country.

The Post Office is collapsing and
I should have a telemetry unit to
constantly monitor my vital signs.
Allergies mimic symptoms with
anxiety filling in any gaps while
I talk myself into and back out of
having the virus a dozen times a day.

--M.J. Arcangelini



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