One Shoe is On, My Truth of Instanity
One Shoe On
One shoe is on, the other is gone.
Let’s put this majestic jester hat on—
once upon a time,
a black swan.
2018 into 2019,
my inner voice whispered:
There will be a toilet paper apocalypse.
Get your M95 mask.
A rhyme from the land of Wuhan,
a lab leak—
stay six feet apart.
The joke and the joker will laugh.
Thirty-two, maybe thirty-four felonies
for Trump, from the Big Apple.
Israel attacked by Hamas on the seventh of October.
A kidnapping—someone named Nora—
a cheap motorcycle,
and Al Jazeera knows.
Three Kings’ Day, desecrated by rioters.
“Ashley, go home.”
A vision of Corey, a firefighter,
falling during national turmoil.
And the voice says:
“The pen is mightier than the sword.
Turn your head and cough.
Fight, fight, fight—
that is my Trump card.”
A quake, seven points,
on the seventh day of the seventh month.
The fall of Afghanistan.
Thirteen U.S. dead.
A special forces unit—
gone.
Roe v. Wade overturned.
States' rights.
We, the people,
will be held accountable.
Go home, Emily Willis.
Get out of ****.
If I needed help,
I’ll go to St. George,
not California.
And a few other Ideas
but whatever im not Tiresias
I am a sinner.
Call me the freak.
I don’t care.
I should have copyrighted it.
Said:
Jesus is the Christ,
Joseph Smith is a prophet.
I lost my faith.
Found it again.
So much déjà vu
I thought I’d gone insane.
Anon in the comments calls me a con.
I don’t care.
you might say i have a demon
I don't care.
Foregone in the present.
Twice before,
maybe.
Once, in 2001–2002.
And maybe—
if the high school memory is real—
1996.
A Cold War relic computer,
an Army officer from the West,
and my warning:
“Tolkien’s Two Towers.
Call 911.”
I don’t know if it was real.
Maybe crazy.
Most likely.
I don’t care.
Copyright ©
G. Jay
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