I'm Major Jackson, and this is the slowdown.

Dining at a new restaurant, me and a group of friends landed on the topic of fears.

We were between appetizers and our main dishes.

Joel confessed to fearing spiders, recalling for us a teenage camping trip.

A massive set of furry legs crawled out of his sleeping bag.

Soon, he felt a sharp pain.

He had to be taken to the hospital.

Linda says a tiny prayer before getting on an elevator.

She would rather take the stairs and does so if a

building is under 10 floors. The oyster mushroom skewers arrived. I was kind of listening,

but I was more into the food being set before us. Then it was my turn.

I said, I feared loneliness, that I would never experience the joy of friends, that I would

lose out on moments like this, taking in the pleasures of the world.

I was surprised by my expressiveness.

I hear that same fear in today's poem,

against the backdrop of violence

as the speaker wavers between joy and oblivion.

This is a poem by Tarek Lutin.

I want to die.

In the arms of everyone who's ever loved me,

each appendage, a tendril expanding into the ether

of every moment I am leaving behind.

...