she begged him to turn off the news
she couldn’t bear any more reality
pettiness and avarice
infiltrated every channel
he tolerated her instability
mostly by ignoring it
forcing them both
to paste smiles and carve pretty days
we may not be afraid anymore
of global thermonuclear war
or plagues
but there’s isolation
amid the information glut
far too many images
glitching our minds
voices from childhood
screaming for us to come back
not turning back
sounds trite
planning ahead
is silly
existing in the moment
feels right
if it’s not but a dream
The Word Rummager 
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