For the sleepless, the anxious & both.
shackled to the screen
& sleepless at 4 a.m.,
I am unable not to watch my planet
plagued by microscopic god––
––I am glued to the images
of a city entangled
in the vicious grope
of death, images of empty streets,
images of storefronts shuttered & locked,
images of people tense & hurrying away
at the sound of a dry cough––
––I am chained
to the idea of dying,
the idea that an innocent touch
will bring invaders of the body,
bring them to my home,
bring them to my love,
leave me rasping for air
intubated & alone & at the mercy
of my own body––
––I am bound to the anxiety,
the great anxiety, the great pandemic,
the great depression, the great destruction,
the great apartment that protects me
& warms me & limits me & frightens me––
––I am desperate
for a rapid heartbeat to calm down,
for a good word about a friend,
for a cure,
to know what new world awaits
as the old one decays on a growing mound
of the dead, dead friends, dead family,
dead strangers remembered on the internet––
––Imeanwhatthefuckareweevensupposedtodo––
––& as I sit & panic,
the patter of a morning storm
pulls me to the garden window.
I listen to the water beat against
the trees & the concrete.
I listen to the moan of a ship
out on nearby New York Bay,
a moan of longing from a vessel that seeks,
as I do, a path through an unknown fog.
& so I close my eyes & breathe,
breathe, breathe, breathe
deep the smell of fresh rain
as it falls from the blind heavens.