December BY MATTHEW ZAPRUDER

At first we all went down to the lake to hold hands, all the multicolored  signs said with love we will resist, over my head I lifted my son so he could see what people look like when they hear the song Imagine, a few weeks later again people stood at the water, this time at night holding flashlights to say to fire you came  without permission and took our young gentle soldiers for art so we will show even with our old technology we can see each other without you, others booed  the mayor which was my friend said understandable, I don't know  what is anymore, everyone understands in a different contradictory way the so far purely  abstract catastrophe so many millions of choices brought us, not too far from the water I sat on the couch below the sound  of blades drinking amber numbing fluid my thoughts chopping the air feeling not what is the word to be a father equipped, mine never told me where to hide a brick of gold, for a long time I have known no voices  will come at last to tell us how to stop pretending we don't know  if it is not  safe for some it is not for anyone.