7/30 - A Week

One week in and the television still broadcasts
emergency protocol recordings on repeat.
One week in and the radio still hums
the same album over and over.
One week in and I'm sick
of prepackage vacuumed sealed survival.
One week in and no end in sight.
This town is peeling back its skin
and bleeding into our front yards
One week in and I still want to
hear the alarm clock. Put heels on
drive to the office. Stumble through work.
One week in and the only thing I recognize
are the cracks on the backs of knuckles
and the blood crusted under my fingernails
One week in and I've forgotten so much.
Tomorrow we go to Webster;
an abandoned military base waits
and we are running out of bullets.