Today's poem is by Matt Broaddus

And You Get a Lair!
       

The foreigners approach, sunburnt, skin
detaching. Folding chairs from the sky

fall onto them. I am the crowd imagining
my own fromness, wondering what will happen

next. You cover my eyes
with your body. I am happy.

Afterwards I sleep. Dreamless.
I must have a mental illness.

I have ice. I'm doing ok.
The polar bears are coming, the news

reports, hooded at greyhound stations,
vandalizing vending machines.

Don't go into the bathroom. Don't see.
Pummelled by metal chairs,

helicopters drop, each into their own
personal volcano. I lurk.

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Copyright © 2023 Matt Broaddus All rights reserved
from Temporal Anomalies
Ricochet Editions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission