(after Catie Rosemurgy)
An apostrophe and a possession.
A retreat and a quarantine.
A meeting request and an ambush.
A screwdriver and a screw.
A spitball and personal protective equipment.
Caller ID and an ineptly sabotaged trust.
An open book and that gas station mirror you scratched your initials into.
Pop Rocks and your neighbor’s AR-15 firing range.
The ugly duckling and an irate gander hissing you back to open water.
A brilliant sunset over the hemlock trees
and a brilliant sunset clause over your civil liberties.
A brilliant sunny spot
that hides the chill of your gun
and a chilly brilliant country
that pretends to worship the sun.