I must have the kind of face
that makes people want to tell me
about the end of the world
perhaps it’s my sticky-out eyes
the way they look shocked and heedful
at the same time
but it’s starting to hack away
at my contentment
the way waves
eat the cliff
a few tufts at a time
today I got a compliment
and found myself wistful
as though it already was that year
of bleakness and terror
trying not to see the despair
on people’s faces
as I offered these strange things
that once drew such praise
words
tangled together
into poems.