26 March 2020
“A nucleic acid
molecule, in a protein coat.”
Nuclear medicine in
a leaden cloak.
Nuclear family,
crammed in one townhouse.
The deck needs a
coat of paint.
All hands on! Called
to be handy-
people, we put on
latex gloves,
Our hands each wear
a narrow coat.
Hand-masks against
the viral load.
Load us up with
medical supplies.
The lodestar of this
pandemic is paper.
Products lost in
bulk at the very back
Of closets filled
long ago with goods.
In the morality
plays, Goods wears
A capital coat,
rides in a wagon across
The plain to stage a
lock-down.
In the capitol.
Quarantine’s
An inventory; it
finds us home
And bids us count,
as if numbers could
Shed their coats,
walk naked
Through the
supermarket at elder hour.
Today, we isolate
from ourselves,
Each to a room, a
computer, a remnant
Wind outside,
promising us,
But not delivering
weather shifts.
A shift in key. A
shift key on the board.
A shift beneath a
dress. The dr.’s dress
Resembles curtains,
cinched by a belt,
Another performance
set to begin.
The performance
starts with the clown.
He wears a long and
narrow tie, gazes through
White circles
surrounded by Tangy skin.
Declares us soon
free to move about--
Do our jobs,
circulate with friends,
Infect the globe
with our optimism.
There’s a drug
coming, he knows it.
What it does, he
doesn’t care.
The confidence man
charms us;
He puts us under; he
pulls the sheets up
And over our eyes.
Somewhere, someone
Is building new
morgues to handle
The over-flow of
bodies.
We vow to give them
to the charity
Of the Fortune-500,
for hallowed
Be thy name. Kingdom
come.
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