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The Covid Collection.

Pandemic poetry served straight up.


1. LOVE IN THE TIME OF COVID-19

I wonder what you'd have said

Gabito about all this,

Were you not dead.

It's striking the elderly -

Would you think that was poetic?

Or would you say it was cooked up

In a lab - NYT bestseller style?

Either way, these days I yearn

For the time we sat quietly, you and I,

With the moonlight and the Arabian Sea,

Nonplussed by events occurring

Further than the tips of our own noses.

Specifically, will Fermina ever love Florentino?










2. THE MOTHER OF ALL INTERVENTIONS

Maybe God Herself

Staged this intervention

To expedite the epiphanies:

There is no Us and Them

No borders no nations

No money no time no nothing.

Just a small blue marble

Suspended in vast emptiness

That hosts, among other

Much more exquisite life forms,

A homicidal, delusional ape

Not completely past

All hope. Or beauty.









3. FAITH

In a small unassuming building’s

Small unassuming garden

Dwells the divine:

Sunshine from our one and only star,

A patch of green underfoot.

An oxygen-spewing Badam tree

And its fellow trees, connected,

Communicating underground,

Sharing their resources.

A shiny blue Carpenter bee,

A Red-vented bulbul,

Frangipani blossoms

And Hibiscus in full bloom.

All looking after things,

Tending to what we really need

For our collective survival.

All of nature, waiting for this to pass,

Waiting to give us another chance.










4. BABYLON

A deadly plague sweeps the land.

The earth splits open:

A toothless grin.

Howling winds, shrieking storms,

Drown out the ruthless kings

And their wicked cronies awhile.

Peasants weep, their children shiver,

Locked in boxes, asunder.

Even the Old Testament's

Unforgiving God was more subtle

In his communications than this.












5. JUDGEMENT DAY

Mask up, moron.

Disposable Eco-terrorist.

Cotton is a thirsty crop!

The weave? The weft?

Wake up, ye vaccinated sheep!

Death to thee, anti-vax freak!

Hells bells: "Density is destiny."

Even Typhoid Mary knew!

Yet here we are,

Huddled masses,

Still clutching at straws,

While SpaceX marks the spot.



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