Poetry: It Starts by Jennifer Patino

It Starts

initial shock begins
in the heart — a few skips
to jumpstart panic
allowing the mind
to fill unknowns
with onslaughts

logic is a bully
punching its way
through the process,
the what,   how,   the escape
routes      the why
will come later
when breathing resumes,
when you’ve formed
an opinion
based on the opinions
of others      those
inferno takes,    
those sounds
with jaws,    the
media brunch
vomited & shared,
    spread

      germs from the
scrolling dead,
attention spanned
across the 2.5 seconds
it will take
to board up a window,
order canned goods
to be delivered by drone,
      to load your weapons,
to wish you had some

how it ends is resignation,
how reality is undeniable,
how the temptations
    in the medicine cabinet
    are the only things left
    that know your name

how it ends is on a white wall,
a gruesome, gorgeous picture
of all you’re made of
     before it’s eaten

and who holds the spoon?
     it’s you in the mirror,
     it’s you in the flat screen,
     it’s you telling you
     you told you so

it’s you repeating
what intuition screamed
while your ears
were being bombarded

while the mind
concocted
futile plans
of action when
you should have been
attacking

it starts in an agreed upon
“new normal”,
it ends with Cassandra,
stunned and stuttering
on a street corner

      but the bent heads
      don’t see her,    the
      gabbing elite
      drown her out

it ends when she smiles

     it starts again when you
     open your eyes



Bio: Jennifer Patino is an Ojibwe poet from Detroit, Michigan currently residing in Las Vegas, Nevada. She lives for books and film. She has had work featured in Door is A Jar, Punk Noir Magazine, The Chamber Magazine, Free Verse Revolution Lit, and elsewhere. She blogs at www.thistlethoughts.com.