existential crises have I one

I will have none whenever I’m done
pleasantly cynical isn’t the style
so I’ll
resurrect a ‘childhood horror’

Nobody knows but me
It isn’t your burden to bear
Nobody knows but me
And, fuck it all, I’m gonna share

in the first years of my teenhood
abysmally utterly greenhood
I lie each night and the bedbugs that bite
are mushroom clouds and Auschwitz crowds
that aren’t just a sigh in a closet
history runs we can’t pause it
but I do not want to be in it
not even for one single minute

If it’s like that


and it’s like that again

If Putin is blowing up dreams in Europe
I now have three questions to ask
when did I notice and when did I act
Is history now Putin’s tale to redact
I for one think that the world’s on the brink
while reliving my childhood terror

unattached to the foregoing::
during the writing of this poem my daughter called me laughing and joking with Alex, they’re doing spelling homework and using it as an opportunity to work the spelling words into song parodies (‘scale’ into “Sail” for example, and to register the Allegra contextual impact you have to know that this song was part of our morning warmup tape when we had the shop). . .and I couldn’t respond properly. In addition to this on going mood I’m in, I have a 24 hour blood pressure cuff on and it KEEPS TURNING ITSELF OFF which is not assisting my apocawyptic bwoodings. I’m migraining as well, horrific multicoloured jagged swirls mostly in the left side of my visual field.


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Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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