After the Election (2028)

after the plague had passed
halloween was over

the suits of disease walked empty
no survivors wanted to fill them

streets no longer grew mad cars
and the seeds of abandoned concrete began to sprout

    see that dog?
    he’s enjoying the excitement of a walk
    so full of scents of mystery

    who owned this car?
    why are all these people so happy?
    the seeds of concrete finally erupt as sculpture
    and it’s up to dogs to figure out
   which survivor planted which one

A version of this poem appeared in Trump Tics (2020)