I am a creature under duress
from the atmosphere
and from the biting vermin
and prowling wolves
and so forth
and we all are

Sometimes when I lay down at night
I hurt with no definition of terms;
an un-named throb or forgotten bruise
or a rash from the bite of a sneaking tick

Sometimes I am afraid that my ears
will never stop ringing.
Sometimes I rub my temples too hard
because even though it hurts now
I’m sure it will help in the end

Most nights, though, I breathe our
atmosphere, and relish in the duress
of it all


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