Once I wrote to flee,
now I simply erase;
still, they intrude,
like cats crying
for fish at my feet.
They will not go away:
avarice, decay, lies—
all ubiquitous as air.
Explanation’s weight
allows no time to think,
nor decipher machinations.
The charms of language
no longer protect me from
fangs slavering in the street.
(August 12, 2018)
subtext 