Chris Tusa (01.01,72 / New Orleans, Louisiana)
Fairytale of Fear
Another tornado warning, power lines
down, the same ring around the rosy.
But there’s no pocketful of posies
for this black plague in my brain.
I am like one of those little pigs,
struck dumb with post-traumatic stress,
waiting for my house to be blown in.
While the storm outside huffs and puffs,
I forget the King’s horses,
the King’s men, wait for the Prozac
to put me back together again.
Comments about this poem (Fairytale of Fear by Chris Tusa )
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