I will be ME, again.
today. even if for only an hour.
fighting the flotsam that tumbles over me.
like radioactive debris from
A tsunami wake accumulating at the
four way rural stop sign
on the old Denver to Lincoln to Detroit highway
sometimes i wonder conspiratorialy
if someone is trying to completely
obliterate the red and white
I AM still here.
Somewhere under the wreckage of Me.
I am swimming to the surf ace
an ant scrambling through
a mountain of aluminum cans, beer bottles,
plastic gatorade shells…
my drink of choice
slows me, nurtures me.
a single auburn antennae waving