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Beyond the dearth
What possible pretense for the shock, jump- thump of heart hit – what possible pretense for the teeming, reaming, hulk of bulk, looming, zooming a re-route of sun sunk to deep shadow as you stand – Golemic-humanoid hypodermic huge in hand, my would-be-drip-drug of despair–destroying all that was – demolishing all that could come to be - casting a challenge to trust the simple certainty of a single next breath. What possible pretense for it all?
And so, in spite of all – I shut my eyes to your new-normal present, reach behind to the joy of the past, and inhale in great gulps of sweet air - the promised future-to-come. Beyond the dearth.