My stockpile is such that
when I open a drawer I brace
for an avalanche of toilet paper.

In the kitchen are enough cans of beans
to last a months-long struggle, for my son
to pass the hours building beautiful steel pyramids.

I’ve strewn fat books of poetry around the house
like a beagle hiding bones to find delight in the
mundane and comfort when there’s nothing else to do.

Sometimes, taking a break from the news and work,
I’ll spot the collected works of this or that poet
and, for a moment, have context for despair.

I’m talking to my son now. I want you to know
that I wore a mask, that I quarantined, and protested,
and wrote things that failed to stop the death and

suffering of this horrible age, that if we manage to
survive, a time will come when my poems,
gathering dust, just might keep you alive.

Image credit:engin akyurt

Andy Posner grew up in Los Angeles and earned an MA in Environmental Studies at Brown. While there, he founded Capital Good Fund, a nonprofit that provides financial services to low-income families. When not working, he enjoys reading, writing, watching documentaries, and ranting about the state of the world. He has had his poetry published in several journals, including Burningword Literary Journal (which nominated his poem ‘The Machinery of the State’ for the Pushcart Poetry Prize), Noble/Gas Quarterly, and The Esthetic Apostle.