Sunday, February 28, 2021

In the Time of Two Viruses

(This not a poem. It only looks like one in which some paragraphs got pretentious and thought they were stanzas. But it has no lift. I’m hearing a final thud.) 

Even as our arsenal of antibodies delivers its shock

Covid is not in awe, busy unmuting its mutant.

It’s tit for tat, is it? Then take this and this!

And we still have that other toxic miasma,

Trump residue, against which we have not

achieved herd immunity. What’s heard

is the herd of sheep. Bah! 


Donald, part Big Mac, hollow and where’s the beef?

Part duck, he quacks and everywhere a quack, quack. 

Over his four years, virus-Trump has morphed

from stormy erection and MEGA resurrection

 to rigged election to mindless insurrection.


Masked in flim-flam, delusions and lies

his cover has fallen away and he walks unmasked

having washed his hands of a half million deaths,

a government in shambles, a nation divisible

and an ignorant army of somnabulant thugs.