It is dark in the cave today...

Self Defense
After Margaret Atwood

Under the cracked whip
We build elaborate defenses
against the bicker of our sad history.
Clerks gnash jaws,
bring the whip down on backs-
exposed, desperate,
we talk incessantly to our scars.
If only to keep our nebulous selves
from diffusing into the night sky.
Words are balm, the unguent of solace 
to convince us this net of air is enough
to cover us in the light and the dark.
                        ***

Streaming

These days we keep our wary distances,
isolated in glowing spaces,
the hours peeling lead paint;
pilgrims of screentime,
we are knotted in a struggle,
a very personal blizzard,
life whittled down to rented minutes.