Vaccinated

I am drinking outside for the first time in a year

And there is

Menace in the air.

I catch myself knowing I just

Wrote a horrible cliché when I meant to say

There is a man riding his motorcycle up and down the block, stopping and

Starting at every pedestrian crossing

Regardless of whether anyone is waiting to cross

Before revving forward

And an algorithm wants to sell me

Leggings stitched with

The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife wrapping in weird angles

So the heart of the piece—the

Estuarial embrace—is hopelessly distorted

By a curve of calf.

And despite the forecast, despite the

Promise of no rain, the sky is nothing

More than heaving sheets of

Mammatus clouds

Flitting over on a strong current.

(turn sideways if reading on phone)