Good Friday be like
Corona comin’ for you.
Where, death, is your sting?
Malicious gales blow
Through the heart of Manhattan,
Stealing untold breaths.
This world, that world, meld —
No barrier detected:
Divine presence speaks.
Plodding, plodding, drag.
Drudgery of quarantine.
Slogging, slogging, sag.
whimsical winsome
April wafts, waltzes onto
brassy COVID’s stage
Fill my jiaozi lungs
With stuffed breath, lamb, beef, and spice
Nourishing air, 吃 (chi: eat)
Somnambulism:
The nation that never stops
Found itself asleep.
Disband, disperse, duck
Everything is repugnant
But I need more milk.
Michigan shut down.
Mitten, smitten with virus:
Pre-modern lifestyle.
moon floss, bumfodder
hoarded by the quarantined
one ply, two ply, three
