by Michelle Yadrick
An invisible threat is a germ
Mere touch will lead to illness
It’s not an extraordinary part of the day
Just a door lock or lightswitch
Some klutz over there has a cut
and a Dora bandaid
Why on earth would I stick a bandaid
on nothing
An invisible threat is a curse
They say 7 years bad luck
but what’s 7 years matter anyway
You’re not counting
Some klutz just spilled the salt
in a circle around me
Why on earth would I need protection
from nothing
Pediatricians ran against
pre-tornadic wind, prescribing
stickers and lollipops
like they’re controlled substances —
butterscotch treatments
to cure my chief complaint
of being dragged here
over nothing