Getting Ready to Leave
Mary Shanley
​
Everything is rotating,
revolving at such a dizzying
speed, it’s getting harder
to keep my balance.
Disinformation overdose,
life at the end of an era.
Too much to overlook
and remain sane.
It’s knocked me on my
side, and now I see
everything in profile.
Should I take a picture
of this?
 
I’m desperate.
Corporate news continues
to miss the humanitarian
point and, instead, wallows
in Presidential criminalities.
The government continues
to devolve into a bacchanal,
while displaying mounting cruelty
and look at how many people
are starving now. I can’t process
the sadness, rage and pain of it all.
I can only toss a dollar into a
beggars cup, send money
to schizophrenic sister, continue
to love Lisa, write and read poems
aloud, listen to music, play the piano.

Live amidst the devastation,
mostly outside the confines
of civilization.
 
Strategize survival plans as sustainability
of life on planet earth is becoming rapidly
more impossible. Leaders deny scientists’
warnings: utter destruction in the wake of apocalyptic
hurricanes, heartbreaking visuals of polar
ice caps melting and the polar bear panic.
Terrifying earthquakes swallow up life,
tidal waves toss lives into eternity,
 
Upscale lifestyles supplant affordable
housing, downhome poetry and street
music squeezing itself in.
Can’t afford to live for much longer.
Credit cards: the illusion of wealth.
Everything is fabulous and turned to shit.
Do you still want to be significant
and successful in a corrupt world?
Who do you work for, anyway?
 
Twilight: I’m on the subway home,
Faces bored and deflated. Work
is over for the day. Darkness
is dropping the curtain
 
I’m fading into a different version
of myself, the night version.
Dark in the day, light at night.
It’s such a relief when the sun
goes down.