this movie

when terrible things cascade

and constantly answer the question

“how can this possibly get worse?”

we are jarredly battered

into a sense of unreality

as if this were a movie

and the screenwriter decided

not only to kill their darlings

and the horses they rode in on

and the kitten with the thorn in its paw,

but to out-dresden dresden

with a firestorm barrage

on two uninvolved cities

that are cultural treasures.

..

we can’t walk out on this movie.

..

we can pray, but we must act as if the answer is

“clean up your own mess. no bailouts.”

..

we can record the crimes; we can defend ourselves

and our neighbors with our numbers;

we can die with dignity…

..

but what we must not do

is act as if, pretend that,

this is just a movie

and it will be over soon

and the credits will roll;

the lights come up.

..

this is just a poem

and will not end with answers

but only a question

to ask yourself:

what is your own best use

of your remaining time?