Rona One

in the ugly glare of fear

there is no friendly gesture

is no feeling that you exist

a small piece of plastic

tells you you're infected

and the friends you thought

you had are fleeing 

the bad news is that you 

have the rona

the good news is that 

you feel fine

"bring out your dead!"

i say, as i range walk

out the door

past the other teachers

is this what we're afraid of?

you know, there's far worse out

in the world, because

everybody's ass is up for grabs

as the great thinker of the ages 

has said

was it Epicures or Staff Sergeant Barnett?

either way, they were wise to the ways

of this spinning rock

full of clowns  

i feel fine

even though i just found out

that my health insurance 

is a street rip

after I cough up, pun intended

over ten percent of my salary

they might pick up

some of the tab

maybe

These fucking humps in 

this world are more deadly

than pneumonia

I keep my distance 

from all the good 

in my life to 

keep them working 

to keep them safe

to become a more 

convenient version 

of the disposable man

I feel fine.

Shana Tova

 The year starts with weariness

and an empty canteen, and

a sweaty brow.

One foot at a time, it goes,

the bellows of its lungs

in time with the angina

of its watery heart.

  A fly beshatted motivational 

poster exhorts

the viewer to keep getting up

after being knocked down,

but what it should say

is that being hopeless

is the human condition

from 30,000 feet up

and that you've got to 

keep going anyway.

  We will trudge onward

and steal laughter and joy

from our stingy master

pilfering kisses and good

company

and minor achievements

like writing little poems

route marching 

alongside this 

shuddering disaster of a new year.