A Poem About the Shields We Use, but Not the Winds they Protect Us Against

Everything is easier to deal with when it’s all laid out in front of you

or like, on the other side of a window

—a screen at the very least.

Like driving in a snowstorm; at least you know the storm is outside and you’re inside and no matter what happens, as long as you remain, that’s how it’ll stay.

The car gives you time to think calmly about how you’re gonna deal with the storm.

All the dangers of today presented to you from behind a sheet of glass like lions in a zoo

It’s all less scary when it’s outside and you’re inside

safe, warm, wrapped in your biggest winter coat crouched on a closed toilet seat with your hood over your head and your arms pulled in so the sleeves dangle like imitations of big threatening arms to ward off predators.

It’s the inescapable inside worries that are the real danger;

like the gnats in your jacket or the hole in your car floor.

If only I could figure out a stupid can of bug spray or some Flex Seal or something, fuck

Keaton Goodman