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"Super Tuesday": a poem by Gregory Crosby

Can you hear me now? The voice, not in our ears,

but near, nearer than we can imagine.

We ask questions to assess the damage.

 

We avoid gluten but gorge upon fear.

This is the feast that increases famine.

Can you hear me now? The voice, not in our ears,

 

but in our throats, our ravening careers

forever ascending, forever crashing.

We ask questions to assess the damage;

 

we survey the scene, eyes dimming with tears.

How could it, we cry. How could it happen.

Can you hear me now? The voice, not in our ears

 

but scrawled, supine, across screens, across years

of serene surmise, counterfeit compassion.

We ask questions to assess the damage;

 

we nod at the answers, so calm & austere.

We see them coming, teeth like blades, flashing.

Can you hear me now? The voice in our ear,

polling for answers: electing the damage.

 

 

Gregory Crosby is the author of the chapbook Spooky Action at a Distance

Sink your teeth into our annual collection of dining — and drinking — stories, including a tally of Sin City's Tiki bars, why good bread is having a moment, and how one award-winning chef is serving up Caribbean history lessons through steak. Plus, discover how Las Vegas is a sports town, in more ways than one. Bon appétit!