The radio transceiver is back to its default frequency.
At first it sounds like an omnipresent white noise,
but, only until you really tune in.

It is the news of anchors that don’t exist
and neither do the calamities they speak of.
So why are they telling me about them? As if
my plan is not foolproof.

I change to weather report which announces
a neverending rain. I like rain. I look forward to it.
I find myself in a dark room and the increasing rain
drowns out the radio. The already faint light
is disappearing with the setting sun.

Then the realization creeps up on me. My plan is
anything but foolproof. The foundation is beginning
to erode away and the house is flooded at this point,
but it is a place I think of as home, and I want to stay.

This is a lie. This place is not my home anymore,
but a vestige of the past. I know this and I’ve made
the rational decision to leave. Though I can’t shake
the feeling that I’ve forgotten to take my belongings.

You can change the radio station at any point,
in fact, this is trivial. But do you want to? This bugs
me and for all I know my bugged radio broadcasts
this to everybody around me.

As a matter of fact, I crank the volume up
and turn to the war report channel.
Now the danger is imminent, and I ready myself.
I fight the enemy that does not exist
and I arm my friends, who only drop their weapons
in confusion.

Without an afterthought, they change the channel.
You never subscribed to any of this and were not
obligated to listen. The future is only a hop away.

Radio silence. I’m finally able to sit
and write this all down.