I gaze at a digital elephant

It's hard to locate a muscle memory

Day 16 of 30 Days of Poetry, Autumn 2024

I am drowning in my loneliness,
world simmering on an open flame.
I gaze at a digital elephant
walking tail to trunk on a grassy plain,
heart skipping: is this real life?
Am I alive?
I push myself out into space.
I make myself corporeal
again, safe in electric noise, 
in the awkward stand of 
white bodies swaying to 
a knockoff Dead band --
it’s hard to even locate 
a muscle memory, we’re all so
dehydrated of love.
I never was an introvert:
it’s a defense mechanism now
to block out humming
meanness underneath,
the house of humanity 
sliding away in the flood,
the terror, the wonder
of daily truth or dare:
What lies beneath the façade
of this smiling stranger?

---

Today’s poem is written the day before the election and reflecting a great deal of the fear and angst I’ve been feeling as human being trying to live in this current mess.

The words given to me were “fire and water” from my friend Yvonne.

I started writing this poem in the first person, plural “We are drowning in loneliness” but decided even though I think it’s true (research tell us) I wanted to write it as a way of facing my own reality.

Thanks for reading.