“On Wednesday afternoon, Lynn Ungar — minister, dog trainer, little-known poet — sat down at the desk next to her kitchen table and began to type. A friend had posted something on Facebook about how much we need poetry in this anxious coronavirus age and she thought, “Yeah, you’re right.””

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“Pandemic" by Lynn Ungar

What if you thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath—
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing. Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
Center down.

And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
(Surely, that has come clear.)
Do not reach out your hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.

Promise this world your love--
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
so long as we all shall live.

she was all but the anorexia in stockings...
a drum! a drum! a drum!
a guitar riff! NA HOO!
ARA *** KRA! FA ARN NA SHAMACH!
WAR! WOO AR! WAR!
DRIBBLE DRIBBLE GOON DA BA'H DA'H!
JA 'OON GAMMA! NACH
SZASCHT ET EAT CZECH I SUM! 'UNGAR!
BO MONGOŁ TO MUZUŁMAN ETC.,
WOJNA! A TOLSTOY DA POKÓJ -
JA DAM WOJNE BY MI BLISKY ADWENT
CZYLI ANTI... NA CZELE GRÓZU BEMBEN!
JA DAM O CO KAŻDY CHŁOPAK PROSI!
KREW! I TE CIEPŁE OCZY MORDOWNI!
JAKO STO KALORII I MIĘSA CHYBA UM UM BLUŹNI!
OKEJ OKEJ, TO MÓJ SĄSIAD. O
KURWA... ZA PÓŹNO!
ALE TARGOWICA NADAL TRWA...
ORAZ RADIO MARYJA! NO TO PRAWIE
CAŁY KONTYNENT! CHIMPANZEE CHAMPAGNE
KOREK POP? JA TEJ... WIDMO CZYLI KOLOR
JAKO AKCENT CZERŃ: zwany kura, i w... no chyba
zwane to jajo tes!