ELEVATED RISK
Miriam N. Kotzin

So now we do not choose to sit near trash
containers while we wait for trains. And if
we see a suitcase unattended, dash
to call police. Suspect each neckerchief.

We stand in crowded subways and we sniff
for poison gas, which we've been told smells sweet
like new-mown grass and hold our handkerchief
lest some one cough before we can retreat.

These days our outfit has to be complete
with compass, whistle, flashlight, knife—one must
have sturdy hiking boots. You are effete
without your hard hat. What for toxic dust?

I keep KI in case of dirty bomb—
I've extra cash. For now, I feel quite calm.

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