Jen McConnell
Don’t Touch
I was a ghost before it became a verb.
Slipping out the door
a breath or two after arriving,
leaving a vapor trail of anxiety.
Sometimes I itch to make a scene.
Knock into a man on the sidewalk.
Poke a baby to make her cry.
Scream fire in an elevator.
Now we have permission not to engage.
Don’t touch your face.
Don’t touch my face.
They gave it a name
but I’ve been doing it all along.
—Submitted on 04/09/2020
Jen McConnell is the author of the short story collection Welcome, Anybody (Press 53, 2012). Her poetry has appeared in Buck Off Magazine, Mused Literary Review and Olentangy Review. Online at jenmcconnell.com.
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