His eyes met hers
and then he knew
it was checkmate.

It's time to stop your wails
Your shrieks and your tales
Of this wretched virus here
Do other things please my dear
This site is plagued by these words
"Coronavirus! Covid-19!"
God, how long has it even been?

I understand that lives are lost
But it will end whatever the cost
So stop writing about it here
There are other places
For these lifeless "poems"

Pallid green,
maybe ashen gray,
a paler look
than yesterday.

The corners of your mouth
are now turned downward,
and your eyes are looking
somewhat the same.

What I was hoping for was not for this,
and now my hope wanes reminisce
as I remember your vibrant color,
and my love for you - as no other.

Lord, why do I see hues of such unskilled painter,
as the canvas is brushed with this fleeting death?
Everything is so smeared and smudged together,
as my heart is sliced by such a clumsy spatula.

But as her life-force is now, and O so slowly, dissipating,
no grasp or hold of mine can keep us here together.
So as my love's last breath releases into the air we breathed,
everything we ever had on earth is fading - and disappearing.

Go hang yourself, you old M.D.!
You shall not sneer at me.
Pick up your hat and stethoscope,
Go wash your mouth with laundry soap;
I contemplate a joy exquisite
I'm not paying you for your visit.
I did not call you to be told
My malady is a common cold.

By pounding brow and swollen lip;
By fever's hot and scaly grip;
By those two red redundant eyes
That weep like woeful April skies;
By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
By handkerchief after handkerchief;
This cold you wave away as naught
Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!

Give ear, you scientific fossil!
Here is the genuine Cold Colossal;
The Cold of which researchers dream,
The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme.
This honored system humbly holds
The Super-cold to end all colds;
The Cold Crusading for Democracy;
The Führer of the Streptococcracy.

Bacilli swarm within my portals
Such as were ne'er conceived by mortals,
But bred by scientists wise and hoary
In some Olympic laboratory;
Bacteria as large as mice,
With feet of fire and heads of ice
Who never interrupt for slumber
Their stamping elephantine rumba.

A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth!
Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth;
Don Juan was a budding gallant,
And Shakespeare's plays show signs of talent;
The Arctic winter is fairly coolish,
And your diagnosis is fairly foolish.
Oh what a derision history holds
For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the ****** and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to ***** up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?