soften the blow

I am mad
I shake my computer screen so hard
all the cards for hearts
splatter across the room like
52 card pick up.

I shake my iPad hard
so all the CNN headlines
pile up in the corner in a rubbish heap
like an etcha-sketch.
I am tired of the angry words
bombings, weapons of mass destruction,
politicians poisonious press feeds
while millions starve.

its probably just the static from the 70 mph gales
shaking the brick walls of my house.
i feel sand in my teeth mixed
with soy butter and rice cakes.

I scream madly at the NOAA weather screen
‘stop forcasting BREEZY conditions
when you mean tornadic!’
I shake my iPad until
pools like a Cezanne watercolor smoothie
rolling off the desk onto the carpet.

I remember stories
about women who went insane
during the dust bowl blows.
I would have been one of them
grit sifting in where
my brain once whir.

I shake the iPad to play me
a sweet old 60s song
Bob Dylan sings Answer is Blowing in the Wind
and his ragged, rusty voice rolls over me
like pastry dough.


  1. Once again our brains merge…was thinking of Dylan’s song last night. You’d think we’d have plenty of answers today.

    How I love the imagery of screens losing their hold on screenhood and false words, how I love the texture of your last two lines.

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