The Gods Escaped
The poetry novel takes a
noir turn, which is fine since
all I seek is an escape. But
escapism can be so lonely.
I wait days before I turn on
the television, afraid of its
normalizing voices and its
look-how-I-can-pretend-to-
weigh-each-side-with-levity
journalism. Which isn’t
journalism any more. The
news isn’t dead or even fake.
I brought you all here to show
you this humongous junkyard
full of teevees for a reason.
Yes, as far as the eyes can see.
