Reflex

I put a bandana in my purse on the way out the door reflexively Because if there is teargas you need something to cover your mouth and nose Because I was going out and I don’t go anywhere anymore where we don’t worry about teargas without my fists in balls always ready to fight This is my whole life now Everything is protests or politics or echoes of both and even the places I escape to are reflections of the fear and rage I can’t ever get out Can never walk away from it’s become second nature reflex Because for two years there has been a quiet war And we fight it with cardboard and bullhorns and bandanas

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