It’s starting to happen — the
precipitous, palpable sky-high rise
in anxiety, apprehension, anger.

I read it in poems written yesterday,
delivered today:
spontaneity
of fear.

Inauguration day is near.
It is really going to happen.
What is really going to happen?

The unpredictable will become
predictable and whatever will
happen will be here

confirming the fear

or hoping once again,
that the dreaded anticipation
is worse
than the pain.