SITTING DUCK #poetry by jay

have i turned into a sitting duck?
i thought the duck was fake
fake ‘til i became the fake
lamed
protruding into the postnasal drip 
of my inebriated brain

actual confusion of time
leech/ ing/  a/ drip/ of/ sor/ row
from our last days

cups with meager pasts
drops of mocha rings
the stink of weeks / days/ months

the smoking of 2021/ 22  
a foray into a mutated
co-existence of strains that bleak 
the ‘scape ‘cross our atmosphere/ dark days

sheltering the response of nothing
from nobody nowhere
lost in the haze of what we thought
was over 

how we complain and wonder 
about our future/ holding patterns
where they lead/ wonder 
about the virus/ the political scene

sitting ducks waiting for a break in the
stalemate/ checkmate 
gridlock/  post-debate(s) 

as we add 
Ad Nauseum 
to the debate list slate.

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

Photo by Biel Morro on Unsplash