It came to pass on day three thirty two
of lockdown. Someone jabbed my upper arm.
Although I thought no shot would fix this flu,
and harbored doubts about the speed and tests,
as soon as my appointed time came through,
I felt my stress reduce. I still believe
we’re broken and more virus will ensue,
but scheduling vaccine was like a charm
that turned my head and edited my view.
(Magic 9)
Near 700 years ago, there raged
Bubonic plague some people named Black Death.
The cause and too the remedy engaged
the best and worst of minds. What stole the breath
and rotted nodes was neither understood
nor cured – the smart defense was keeping clean,
avoiding crowds, reducing neighborhood
for 40 days at least: called quarantine.
The silence of no platform has been sweet,
but bad behavior still gets nourishment.
The idiot is gone – he doesn’t tweet
and maybe won’t disrupt the government
again, but here’s a rottenness revealed –
as soon as we removed his alpha stink,
the sycophant politicos congealed
and coursed, and showed the depths to which they’ll sink.
The GOP has faded to a wraith
of what conservative should really mean.
The actors only practice now bad faith
instead of skill or fair debate. The scene
is true disorder, and a failing plan.
It wasn’t just that awful venal man.
Our vision captures objects when they move.
We notice what we’ve lately had in mind.
That leaves a wealth of world to which we’re blind.
If pregnancy or injury’s your groove,
you’ll keep on seeing others of your kind.
Our vision captures objects when they move.
We notice what we’ve lately had in mind.
In dark of night you’re sightless, until you’ve
a target by mobility defined,
or focused by your eyes sideways inclined.
Our vision captures objects when they move.
We notice what we’ve lately had in mind.
That leaves a wealth of world to which we’re blind.
(English Madrigal)
Bubonic plague took millions and endured
for centuries, to varying degrees.
Apparently it wasn’t ever cured,
but hygiene and less crowding brought decrease.
World population dropped by near a third,
allowing the survivors bath and breeze.
I wonder: Did the sufferers receive
remedial advice they could believe?
(Ottava Rima)
A week ago, when buying groceries,
the avocados were too hard and green
to use, but still I purchased to appease
my lust for luncheon salad. I machine
through half a day since house arrest began
and, honestly, I haven’t tired yet.
A heap with cheese and seeds becomes my plan.
I toss it with balsamic vinaigrette.
But last week’s avocados are like rocks.
They haven’t ripened and perhaps will not?
I visited the small store near my block.
They had a few too soft – I groped and bought
the best I found, in hopes it had some taste.
The flesh was perfect! Nothing went to waste.
This week we watch a new impeachment show,
although we don’t expect a just result
from citizens enrolled in MAGA cult.
Some facts will stun and shock is sure to grow,
when politicians act so un-adult.
This week we watch a new impeachment show,
although we don’t expect a just result.
The march for equity is steep and slow.
Conspiracy is flung by catapult
of Internet, toward chaos and tumult.
This week we watch a new impeachment show,
although we don’t expect a just result
from citizens enrolled in MAGA cult.
(English Madrigal)
The Trump remove is like an autumn leaf.
The green is gone and what remains appears
attractive – varied colors, change motif –
but moribund in fact, as winter nears.
I can’t hold climate change at bay, and sure
my situation could be so much worse.
My habitat is sturdy and secure
(remodel took a chunk out of my purse).
So my complaint is mild – I’d reverse
the forecast trend, away from early warm
that others see as anything but curse.
I yearn for cold; I crave a winter storm.
(Huitain)
I spent my early childhood back East
(Manhattan-born, Long Island reared to 8),
and sure I have strong memories, not least
the insects Mom would burn to death or bait.
She never minded summer fireflies.
She swatted other bugs and was appalled
whenever ants invaded. She’d devise
a death by seething water. Mom would scald.
Those bugs were huge compared to what beset
our California dwellings. Come the rain
and we have myriads of tiny ants.
We squish them with a fingertip. We set
out traps and Windex-spray. We find no train
or trail to treat. They’re here. I have no chance.
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