Corrine Fitzpatrick

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old men know when old

men die so listen to the shuffle

of the stroke survivors

between ones nuclear deviations bend an ear to war

is the constant hum an equitable atmosphere

we neglect

three times as many

or much personal narratives all

piqued on common

human suffering

and tiny

musculature resilience

just another slight history in the overlapping cysts

buckles

of pedestrian melodramatics

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admire yourself

your posture with

expression so privy to adventure

wet rank din of day

sour as a rhetor

sass, so sass, alright

all we innocents

belly chortle

the neighbor’s child sighs

approach newness such

as accidental fear

stumble

shirk

all our claws

are damp

the ride, the ride is hellish