malware no software can
fend me against rust my blade
like a feast for anaerobic bacteria.

red as if with unjust blood.
but it isn't.

I wear a portable blood pressure
measuring device that inflates
around my arm and could be

waiting to give me good news
every thirty minutes.  

but it isn't,
and a few floors above me
the carpenters are listening to

Smells Like Teen Spirit on their
Milwaukee radio, reminding me

that we always seem to agree on
the more important things in Life,
like what was good about the

ninetees. and what
wasn't.