Poem (“popular fear . . . ”)

by Simon Pettet

popular fear bad taste all of us glued
to a centralized rectangle

expectations metaphysics
out the window

we wonder what happened when
all this got started

what moment,
(there must have been one)
when (inside)
the ball dropped
the glass shattered

& it all got
so particularly and irretrievably


Poem (“we tremble . . . ”)

we tremble  his bow is
fixed.  we tremble
see already the suicide
we tremble, our heart rate
is now permanently physiologically affected by this.