by Zach Kincaid
Tsunami.
A word half a world away.
A discussion point at the local dive.
“Did you hear the latest?”
A travesty my googlized eyes blur.
Tsunami.
27 million hits.
“Did you hear the latest?”
Tsunami.
A manic on drugs.
A mopped-up media craze.
A watered down disease.
Walk on water.
Where are your feet to defy angry storms?
Walk on water.
On top of homeless wet blankets.
On top of bloated bodies.
Tsunami.
Out of mind.
“That’s enough bad news.”
Turn off the spigot.
Virtual. Digital. Forgettable.
Tsunami.
A barreling thought half a world away.
A discussion point yesterday.
“Did you hear the latest?”
“No.”
Walk on water.
Where are my feet to defy angry storms?
Walk on water.
Overtop my warm, safe bed.
Despite my reasonable head.
Tsunami.
A coined word for disorder.
Does hope comes in boats and baskets?
Propped up in new color.
Down untangled rivers.
Can the lost be found?
The widow, the coin, the
Tsunami.