by Tricia Knoll
Corporations make it so small you don’t
read a word of it as if they save paper
by cramming everything together
what privacy you give up
hidden costs
contraindications, side effects –
one decreases cognitive abilities
on a drug doctors said I needed
as I age. Getting old
brings out glasses,
prescription or straight
from the pharmacy rack.
Woe: when it isn’t 8-point
type, when it’s spelled out big
with a flaunty signature
of a President who hates they, them
pronouns, turns the tables on being born
on safe soil, pardons killers, changes
the name of the highest mountain
on the continent—the Great One.
And on and on, writ large.
Might as well be billboards
his words that make
my heart ache—what irony
I can’t even read his floozy signature.
Tricia Knoll is an aging Vermont poet and feminist who hasn't yet conquered the heartache for women of losing the write to choose health care in so many states. She has nine collections in print, both full-length books and chapbooks. She is a Contributing Editor to the online journal Verse Virtual. She wonders how liberal folks will move forward in the coming years.
