I am awake because I have to be awake.
My skillset is still required. I am still employed.
A car alarm is screaming that a car was touched.
The plagues have abated, for now, but will be back shortly,
to resume shaping history—some military victory
or new savior hanging frustrated stage right.
Big Agriculture and Big Pharmaceuticals
are killing so slowly no one notices.
Chicken is still tasty.
Many Americans are remembering 9/11,
the rest are clogging social media
with their own memorials.
We are all drowning in memories.
At least the apocalypse didn’t arrive
and AI has not terminated the population.
In the kitchen, coffee is brewing.
I started a load in the dishwasher, carefully placing
the Highball and wine glasses to survive the spray.
The news is off. I don’t need to see who left us
yesterday.
A morning anxiety attack never did me any good.
I hope you are warm and well-fed food
grown out of your own pesticide-free garden.
I hope you are still asleep, dreaming of childhood.
