with the same measure

the multitudes breath blue
glimpses of rising suns fade
in broken tongues spitting now
cold upon their sheltered faces

weeping and wailing tarnished notes
my fractured brain and back penned
scrawled into dry and pallid flesh
over sixteen quarters in lock down

hell this house of looking glass grows
and now the charge mice blindly follow
as quarantine loads in focused sight
a push of pain to bring on the night

Robert Filos is an author of poetry and short stories that combine beauty and wit while highlighting social justice issues. Published worldwide his poetry received over 40,000 views in 2017. Born and raised in The Bronx, he now resides in the South Carolina Low-country with his wife and children. He can be reached at rfilos63@gmail.com. Read other articles by Robert.