you don’t know me,
but tell me you feel it, too–
the hollowing out of what was hallowed,
marrow scooped from our bones.

Tell me that you refuse to swallow 
the empty language they dangle like bait,
their squirming equivocations
and spinning distractions.

I’m speaking in code,
but tell me I’m not alone. I’m not alone, here.
I’m trying to say that you’re not alone. 

Remember the respite of unity in game 5 
and Aretmis II’s mission around the moon.
Laugh with me now at the irony 
reflected in an algae bloom.

Tell me that I’m not crazy– 
you’ve heard the same thousand alarms in your head,
and, yes, it’s already too late. Dust gathers
on judges’ robes swaying on hangers.

Stranger, when hot winds rip the banners
from our eviscerated institutions,
hold my hand. I’m trying to say I’ll hold yours, too.