The Gashouse Gang Poem by Raj Dronamraju

If it was up to me, I'd warn you ahead of time
About unusually long lines in supermarkets or closed road detours leading you down unfamiliar streets
The way people keep crowding around you on all sides no matter where you go

And I'd warn you about
Phantom invaders that storm through the house and eradicate its safety
All anybody can see is your reaction
They humorlessly march up and down your wretched mind's half acre

And I'd warn you about dressing up your sorrow
And joining a group of condemned canker sores
Ruminating and ignoring all opportunities
Have found identity in what they don't have

But it's not up to a member of the gashouse gang
A flip of the switch and I'll be done
So full of questions but no desire to ask
Just gawking, another killer slug itching towards the salt pits