they never returned, even with faces masked, big screens, media rooms and sound bars had saved them from having to cram themselves into uncomfortable seats, elbow to elbow with strangers, potentially dangerous, infested with deadly viruses or worse, brandishing assault rifles, the noisy demons in their heads begging to be slaughtered in the bloodletting of innocents...no, they weren’t going back. renovations could not disinfect the crazy, protect them from the madness, for they had grown comfortable in their shelters, unwilling to risk contact with deplorables, cult crazed zombies, veins boiling with infection and hate... it’s been years now, since these doors were shuttered, renovations teased on a tattered marquee, the people had long grown weary of promises, promises impossible to keep
NaPoWriMo2021 - Day 4 Challenge: Select a photograph from the perpetually disconcerting @SpaceLiminalBot, and write a poem inspired by one of these odd, in-transition spaces.
coursing through my veins, directing my existence, lifeblood, DNA containing the legacy of my ancestors heroes, scoundrels, paupers, royalty, saints, average folk, their footprints in the dust long disbursed to the wind and me here, now, my simple life carrying us on anonymously
I keep forgetting to breathe. The fear of dreadful unknowns fills my head. Though, not entirely unknown, having been ravaged by hate, unmanaged pandemics, misogyny, injustice, racism, bigotry, and a planet on fire for these last few horrible years, I am certain another four years of the same insanity would surely undo all that we hold decent and righteous and good. All of this hinging on a simple checkmark in a box, and on the outcome of a fragile, broken system. Not breathing seems a reasonable thing to do in times like these, though not very wise…
autumn’s reflection ruddy treetops on blue glass where swans drift slowly barely forming waves, the air still, cool as it fills my burning lungs
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