Isolated

Isolated

Reclining in the corporate swivel chair

            of judgement, the airy entity that calls 

itself the CDC twists yet another paper clip

             into a stork, sighs, and judges "yes, this calls

       

for just a little longer still," a delicate request

             demanding tiered acceptance from the groping ones

below: First, a simple faith that yes, in fact, the CDC exists

at all—second, a childlike belief that it is well-informed

about the goings-on among the muck down here—

finally, a sightless trust that it is motivated by the full

well-being of the ones persisting, through nagging fear

of foolishness, to trust its proclamations. A little while

longer still, I reassure myself, preconditioned for

             this sort of clinging faith—I’ve tethered here before,

a different storm.