The great Ellis Marsalis, Jr., died of corona virus in NOLA,
one of a thousand that passed away this Avril Fool's, from it,
all of whom will be missed dearly, "...we(e),..."'ll ever bay.

In his day, near his death, (W.A.) Mozart said to his wife,
"I fear I am writing a requiem for myself", as he composed
'Requiem Mass in D minor- Lacrimosa', of unparalleled beauty.

With rheumatic fever hitting Europe at that time, and soon
after, yellow fever in Philly, here, epidemics and pandemics
became common, the worst, 1918 Spanish Flu, 1/2 a bill dead.

listening to comedy ring hollow, a necessary alternative to
the news that isn't new, my ear longs for his veracious music.
How can USA have the worst response to it among technocracies?

Our king-kong sized terrible-two, ****, playing his keystone
President act for 3 months has determined the repub conspiracy's,
global oligarchy's agenda's yoke tighten around the people's neck.

The stealing of social security from the elderly, infirm, through
Covid-19 exterminating them more than others, this couldn't get
done politcally by the repubs for 2 decades.  As well, the poor

to lower-middle-class, especially people of color, can't afford
to defend themselves usually, now it's worse. "Stimulus bills"?,  
over 1/2 a trill to bail out small, big businesses, pay big Pharma,

medical supplies corps, who're already making hand over fist from
the bidding war between States, federal agencies, dictating Bush,
**** klans who're heavily invested, ever increasing kafknching.

Coastal regions, big cities, mostly dems, are murdered more by
virtue of #, close proximity, needs, ****'s re-election plan.
This while he kept his criminal cuts to SNAP, still stealing food

from mouths of babes and handing it to billionaires.  Same as
it ever was, class war, repubs using jobs they don't do, to mass-
exterminate non-repubs instead.  like the serial murderers who

masquerade as cops, killers ..., as doctors, judges as justices.
The 'big fix' is in, if it ain't fixed don't break it, stop all
criminal insanity, if not you then who, here, where, now, when?

This leaf of poetree, although it just a twig be, may be my last.
If so, I'm honored to pass with such great artists, yet, hopefully
not from skyrocketing price of living.  Social distance, wear mask.

Sunrise' polyphony subsuming last night's silences.  So too,
corona's chaste environs have no place for Avril's fool.

This morn's melodies exhumed by me, fended off dissonance,
until it rose to this afternoon's busy messes cacophony.

Yet, as an avian's trill still rings true, birdsong was sung of what
I'd done, a symphony of empathetic acts danced to a soul's tune.