Each day is a new micro community
a locus of control as blurry
as the great Egyptian plagues of old.
Swimming upstream has never been easier
yet they sit there on the white rocks
pretending to drown.
We’ve repurposed the butterflies;
where they used to stretch lazily
on the summer gardenhose
now they creep up quietly behind
the bushes, so as not to be noticed.
Even when the water is reef-clear
still most swim with their eyes shut
peeling kiwifruit with pairing knives
and eating teeth-first. The coffee shops
were never before so desolate,
shuttered new ideas locked down
along the dusted sidewalk.
I see the people walk feet-first
and they won’t stop.