by Tom Bajoras
Eyes closed, I cross the highway
and wonder if I’ll make it to the other side.
That’s how I feel every morning,
with a new day in front of me.
I think I’ll go out for a walk.
Wait, better not, I just remembered
there’s a war scheduled for today.
The air will be filled with
poison-tipped intentions and divisions:
who will rule
and who will be ruled.
There’s an unwritten law that says
peace cannot exist between two men
unless one of them is dead.
So I’ll just stay in bed or hide in the basement
and wait for today to pass.