What a day to be alive — Corey Hill

What a day to be alive
As in not yet dead
Yet it’s always just yet
Creeping in from the corners
Panic flyers, bugs of discontent
You still have skies 
Water and bird sounds
For now, it’s always for now
Either a bus will smack you
Or a new disease 
You get old 
You wrinkle up and turn
To lint and
Then that nice breeze comes 
Cool air and off you go 
Everyone gets an apocalypse

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Corey Hill is a human rights activist, journalist, parent, lizard chaser, occasional tree climber. On the masthead at Taco Bell Quarterly. Journalism in The Independent, Yes!, Earth Island Journal, more. Poetry and fiction at The Moth, Antithesis, Prole, Sierra Nevada Review, others.