Tunnel Vision

Working nine to five
Commuting sev to seven
Can barely eat let alone
Find time for decompressing

A bottle of raw nitro
Shaken by the news
Stuffed inside a car
On a highway
Set on cruise

Fumbling with the keys
Any spark could light the grease
You recognize the warning signs
Start searching for release

Pay 95 an hour
To tell him all your issues
He nods
Adjusts his glasses
Nudges you a box of tissues

“It’s you,” they say on TV
“It’s them,” you think at work
“It’s us,” you scream at dinner
On the internet, “That jerk”

Story after story
Oxy after oxy
Burger after burger
Nazi after nazi

Panic after midnight
Shooting after shame
Homeless after cancer
Same after same

“It’s you”
Write the prescription
“It’s them”
Vote for the kneeling
“It’s us”
Want visitation
“It’s me”
Blood on the ceiling

Not me.
Blood in the gutters.
Not me.
Tanks on the streets.
Not me.
Smoke in the distance.
Not me.
Gods on their knees.