26/A

After Tuesday, it was much more than the turn of the century,
it was, most certainly, a turn for the worst

Maybe we brought out the worst in each other,
That is what we were best at,

When we woke up on week nights with sweat down our spines,
it was, most certainly, our dreams of being there

Maybe being drafted into emptiness was aligned long before our time,
That was what was expected of us,
or what was left of the alphabet

If you were X, you were an expired conundrum,
because you were overshadowed by Y,

but Z,
Z will be scores of years beyond Tuesday,
and in time,
the way we name hurricanes will be our saving grace