May 1, 2020

Storm Drill

This is a test. This is only a test.
Testing, testing, one, two, three.
Tap, tap the mic. Testing. Is this
thing on? This is only a test.

Not the real deal, not the big
show, not the kids-strap-on-your-
bike-helmets-and-get-under-the-
mattress-in-the-shower-now! storm.

A test. Only a test. A drill.
Practice. A chance to build
muscle memory. Prepare.
Pare down in advance of the

siren that sounds against a
gunmetal gray sky, cocked,
churning, and dense, and not
this airy blue brightness.

The clouds of the coming
storm are seeded, laden,
burdened by abuse, hungry
for revenge against a ruinous

and ravaging people who
have never learned real hunger,
have never learned to feed
themselves, have never learned.

This is a test. This is only a test.
Who will heed the alarm? Who?
Who will learn to feed the
ground that feeds us all? Who?

Who will pass the test? You?