i used to

i used to watch those shows

survivalist documentaries

aging caucasian man

stocking his bunker

with canned meat

lining his helmet

in tin foil

the apocolyptic rambling’s

society’s unraveling

i used to smile

at that

misguided man

and his

foolish preparations

radioactive anticipations

i’d say

“do gas masks

come in

rose colored

rhinestones?

if the end

is nigh

i still

want to

look good.”

as he’s counting

hollow points and

gathering rain water

i used to imagine

him kissing

the galvanized steel

of the hatch

he’s welding

from trailer siding

whispering

“keep us safe, my queen”

and it used to

make me giggle

but now

in this

political climate

 a nightmare

is pending

and i

am without shelter

so maybe he

knew something

i didn’t

a.duncan, 2016

Posted by

"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

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