Cassandra

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      No mere Chatgyptte, we are Shakespaire. But you don’t believe that.

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      (Smashed glass.)

 

      On the freeway of history

      there are drivers and accidents,

      also passengers, sirens,

      witnesses, bodies in trunks.

      Choose or you better.

 

      I told everyone what they need to know.

      Will that keep glass from your face?

      Amazon Prime blasting

      through azaleas and the breakfast nook

      and your speaking wife. Is that what?

 

      My hair comes out by my fingers

      before you listen. Just

      one word is impossible.

      Nothing’s understood,

      so much lightning in the air.

 

      Whoa -- that glow. Another

      picks out sizes for miles.

      At this rate you

      reach the point

      there’s only shouting.

 

      I will not have been at fault,

      sunned freezer bag, handled mixing stick!

      Fall away, signs and warnings,

      picture of you looking at windows

      on carpets and the stairs in flames.

 

      (Slammed door.)