Young man who administered the shot told me it would be over soon. He was talking about the pandemic. He liked my hat. I told him it was my keep covid off my hair hat. He said good and shot me in the arm.
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dVerse quadrille on the word bother. This is a prose poem quadrille.
Don’t be just a prick in the arm. Be a savior of the world.
After vaccine I took fluids to bring the fever down.
Hopefully tomorrow I will be like myself again.
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NaPoWriMo prompt to write a sijo. Just got my second dose and not feeling so well.
WHO announces the end of pandemic
You do not have to wash your hands
or stay away from your friends
free to move throughout the country
and the world (with your vaccine card)
still be courteous and do not cough
or sneeze
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NaPoWriMo prompt on news I would like to see. Can’t think of anything more desirable than this.
Quick the seasons were
in the time of pandemic
under a clear sky
caught up in futures
if we live or die here— who cares
know this for all days
that are shorter now
with the cold of winter coming
I want my blanket
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dVerse quadrille prompt on the word blanket
What season is this
wear a mask for groceries
or you will get sick
What season is this
watch lawlessness on tv
in the name of change
What season is this
where travel is restricted
all over the world
What season is this
when people defy rule
to loot for big screen
What season is this
who saw Jesus statue fall
in mobocracy
What season is this
without fear of authority
that a way be made
What season is this
we stay away from people
end humanity
What season is this
worried for our liberties
while some hold rifle
What season is this
wayward disobedience
taunting the police
What season is this
welcome truthful dialogue
no taking of sides
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dVerse prompt to write a series of haiku — I am baffled by what is going on in the USA
His shadow shouts—
don’t betray yourself
stay inside
it is your alibi
months later
on a nightmare scream
he went outside
when his shadow
could not be seen
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dVerse prompt to use Maya Angelou’s line his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
Maybe at Christmas
or next year
to return to Portugal
learn the language
hike on a rugged
coastline
to the surf
of Mediterranean
or Atlantic
hope to return
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NaPoWriMo prompt to the concept of return. Last day for thirty days of writing poetry. So hoping there will be a return to traveling.
Searching on the website
like going down each aisle
I want this— out of stock
I want chips— not a healthy choice
I want pantry foods— ones that keep
red lentils
split peas
garbanzo beans
make a soup— better than canned
make the order Sunday night
Monday 7 am
the joy of groceries delivered
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NaPoWriMo prompt to write a review. My experience with online grocery shopping. I miss going down the aisles of the grocery store but this will have to do.
Dystopic thinking today
as I work in the garden, contemplating Voltaire.
How has education
brought me to this point
of doubting all that I know?
History is not repeating itself.
How can this pandemic
be compared to the Spanish Flu of 1918?
We know so much more but do little.
Communication is faster
so what is going on in Italy
I can know right now.
In Spain the same. Now the US.
But look at the geography.
Look at the size of countries
and compare it to US.
Italy is smaller than Washington State.
How can there be comparisons?
The one common factor is
that the disease spreads quickly.
Test- track-and isolate. Too late.
The microbe is loose.
By accident or design?
Nobody knows or somebody knows.
Maybe we will never know.
What we do know is
that staying home keeps us safe.
Not everyone can stay home
so in Italy
there are still new cases regardless of a lockdown.
People have to go out to get food.
Whole families die at home.
After a month of staying at home,
groceries delivered and sterilized,
no outside visits,
I can’t say that I am lonely or stir crazy.
I like to stay home.
But what would it be like without internet,
without the food supply,
without air conditioning and lights?
In the winter, what if there was no heat?
What if there was no gas
to keep the car going if I wanted to relocate,
live in the mountains, hunt for food?
Are we being tossed back
into the Neanderthal of life
or just a temporary bleep in the radar
of what we always thought was progress?
Too many questions and who cares
what the answer is.
I find answers to be too dystopic.
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NaPoWriMo prompt to write 20 minutes spontaneous writing and make it a poem.
“No one left and no one came on the bare platform.” No one was going anywhere. The trains and planes had stopped running a week ago. All ground transportation halted by order of the government. Gas stations were closed. Truckers off for two weeks. This was a complete stand still. Fourteen days to clear the virus out of the system. Only one more week to go. One more week to make the food last; for the hospitals to unlock.
Plans were already going up for the restart. The grocery stores would open first, pharmacies second. People in close proximity to these places are lucky as they can walk. Public transportation would resume on the third day. Gas stations would open for delivery trucks only. Hospitals open, followed by churches. By the end of ten days, people can drive a car again. Back to normal.
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dVerse prompt for prose of 144 words using the sentence “No one left and no one came on the bare platform.” by Edward Thomas. Photo taken in Italy. This is a fantasy of how it could be if all transportation comes to a standstill including walking.
