Tired

2020, first presidential debate

The ghost of a handshake

Before a slap in the face

The ghost of decorum

In that ghost of a place

Dust from the rubble

Spittle from the screams

A burst of noises

As words cross streams

It’s static to the ears

Then static in the brain

The hatred. It’s not fair

to say we complain

We cry and we scream

We hope and we pray

That we’ll leave this to

Be in a coursebook one day

Can’t look away from the screen

Despite tired eyes

Like a fire we stare

And hope no one else dies

The shake of the head

The disbelieving cry

Of the guy representing the nation

And the nation representing the guy