Edward St. James

The nerves have long stretched outwards from my spine
Sudden noises and piles of paperwork stretching above
All while fascism grows and nightmares stand in a line
I dream of becoming a dove in a grove

Sudden noises and piles of paperwork stretching above
Only daydreams can keep me moving forward
I dream of becoming a dove in a grove
Of all the songs that are played by bearded bards

Only daydreams can keep me moving forward
When all the buildings stretch out into shadow
Of all the songs that are played by bearded bards
My favorite is the tragic one about Hartford Meadow

When all the buildings stretch into shadow
I alone with my pen and my humming do sing
My favorite is the tragic one about Hartford Meadow
I hope you don’t mind if we clap while we wing

I alone with my pen and my humming do sing
All while fascism grows and nightmares stand in a line
I hope you don’t mind if we clap while we wing
The nerves have long stretched outwards from my spine

Edward St. James is a writer and poet living in New York. He can be found on BlueSky.

This poem appeared in What We Hold On To: Poems of Coping, Connection, and Carrying On — Winter 2026, published by The Chaos Section Poetry Project.  You can read the full collection or download a free PDF of the chapbook here.