To: The American Psychological Association…

Poem by Melissa Balmain

To: The American Psychological Association
Re: Updates

Dear Colleagues in the APA:
The time has come to introduce—
in lay terms for your ease of use—
a checklist of anxieties
contagious as a viral sneeze
and guaranteed to pass your way:

In March we added fear of mail,
of shaking hands and touching pets,
of germs on burgers and baguettes,
of weathering the TP drought
until you run completely out
of anything to wipe your tail.

In April came concern as well
that love and patience will wear thin
as walls and kids and spouse close in;
that you’ll be filing for divorce
the week you get laid off (of course!)
and lose your sense of taste and smell.

May brought the nagging worry that
the so-called Federal relief
will mean a respite so damn brief
it’s highly possible that you’ll
use up your groceries and fuel
before a hornet lays you flat.

Now: June. And all at once our list
is topped, not by the fear of death
from someone with corona breath,
but fear of items you can see:
a two-by-four, a club, a knee,
a canister of burning mist.

What torments will July contain?
Who can predict? But one thing’s clear:
anxieties we’ve seen this year—
unlike a number in the past—
should be, without exception, classed
as signs of being fully sane. ◊

MELISSA BALMAIN is the Editor of Light, a journal of light verse. Her collection Walking in on People is often mistaken by online shoppers for some kind of porn.

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