William Stobb

Citizens

The morning my elected representative trades

nuke threats with North Korea, I

drink less coffee—in a nuclear winter scenario

coffee might not be available.

When I was a kid, my mom had a surgery

and had to quit cold turkey.

She survived only with headaches and nausea

for a month solid and I’m so dependent

crippled by withdrawal

how will I manage to scour the wastelands

for any sign of life?

So it’s two cups only

and all afternoon I stare at sparks

reeling around a red

maple on 10th avenue

like sparrows around a

scorched head. My mind slips up

into the jet stream & blazes

a contrail across the map of the planet until

I’m hovering over the streets of Pyongyang where

my enemies dressed all in gray and brown

frown and shake their fists at the sky.

Beaten dogs whimper.

Ball-gagged women writhe in the gutter.

Infants twitch at the buzz of their shock collars.

One citizen jaywalks and

officers with approved haircuts immediately

incinerate him with flamethrowers.

Right? No? Someone

stands at a sink in despair?

Hears sparrow song in his maple and

imagining great suffering