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we have less
than a necessary
stockpile or
we're in the lower
ninety percent or
there's chores to be done
or we don't have

hush hush hush hush hush hush

my thimbled

oh I have hives or the phone
rang or I'm sorry there's
all this feedback

and they may say
family farms fare better
when dropped
in a black box

but we know
vigilance is combative
when we have the time

plug the television
with another quarter

the bus is late

we're expecting
the future
though we trudge
through the ungainly
though we're funnybone slow

living the

don't worry about the hush
don't worry about this poem

don't worry about the dowager's gown
and her ease her clichéd wealth.

but everywhere a hush
says the cartoonist

This poem appears in the 2003 Anthology
View all poems by Kaia Sand