The Resilience (excerpt from the full poem) Anthony Ptak, 2020. “Resilience. Yes I know what you’re expecting from me, brilliance, framed so poetical, methods employed in experiences acoustically sibilance sublime silence music not citric or lime, fear that we have limited time. I’m in the process of freestyle rhythm, not reason, I’m long past that season of our discontent, hospitable journey upon the gurney, dear warden, incontinence your burden, is forbearance, illicitly ignorance has given no witness to the protocols litmus, a listless tryptic, that tricks it, in flipping from bed sores, and depletion of oxygen wars, albeit deficit of compassion for souls grace, the things I can taste like burning electric eclectic forensic, slayed on the bed this with the teardrop necklaces, daze in my devoted head, nurse in Celtic tattoo illusions, and scrubs the dub plates hallucinations for days, Djay sound culture send it to the lab for results in our mourning for lives lost and isn’t this grand standing in hallways waiting for surgeons and specialists who evaluations are deficits dawning, questions of longing for green brains storming at the gates of the museum exhibition space and I fall asleep downtown on my faces of watchman near the docks, asking where have you been, negotiating with sinners, rolled dice with breadwinners, jumped the curb, jumped the span be quick I jumped the highways near the van wick express way to far from home this day, lost in a dream for a required curriculum, vitae the vitals, running for miles but I’m tripping, no rhyme nor reason the end of this season, bears in the cave for hibernation, I am disgracing, pacing the bridge of Manhattan thinking tonight panicked the system I studied the third rail the sound of the steel vibration this syblance I drop to my knees for the MRI is hot from the friction of iron and blood, the waters of East rivers did flood all the records, of medical devices.”