Like an itch
makes you angry
enough to scratch
until tiny gems of blood
emerge shining
on your tender skin
this tingling cramping
in your hands
your lips tighten
and your fists
long for contact with
the magnificent world
to reverse wrongs
to elide injustices
to make an indentation
of your own
an irritable anxiety rises
in your throat wont go
tomorrow or the next
day go to bed
your dreams nag
nag nag at the back
of your mind there is no
escape it will still be there
when you wake
choking teeth clenched
against stupidity
and ignorance that
swirl like smoke now
secondhand in your lungs
vicarious vertigo narrowing
around your neck
nooselike under watery
streetlights helplessness—
thats the real problem
isn’t it you
enraged you
small and alone
what can you do?
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: US Dept of Agriculture
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