Lockjaw in the Antilles

Walking on a beach in the Lesser Antilles
I stepped on a plank, a rusty nail,
had to get a tetanus shot. Spent a week
in a chintzy hotel, recovering

just like the economy’s supposedly “recovering”—
more like, undead. Zombie economy. Paid for my shot
without insurance. That plank and nail
sealed the coffin on my faith
in government promises. From now on, it’s non-belief
and life as an Antillean beachcomber. All I can say is
it’s better than lockjaw.

--word salad

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside