We are panicked because we've divorced
ourselves from Nature. We feel our lives and
time to be of singular significance.

We are panicked because we don't
accept consequence. Consequence
comes later—we think ourselves exempt.

We have proven ourselves inept
at mitigating our impacts, inept
at living and multiplying sustainably--
inept at respecting Nature,
our Planet, and those we share it with.

Nature is not an enemy—nor is Death.
Disease is a tool they both use,
they know when and how to use it.

Nature's virus is Her shining testament
to the limitations of the scientific mind.
It stands as the form of humility,
served with exponential growth.

There is nothing of singular significance
within my bones, heart, or skull.
I am merely a fragment of Nature's Flow.
I did not choose to come here,
I will not argue when it comes my time to go.

The name of it left buzzing malls empty,
sanitizers out of stock,
masks and hygiene products booming.

It revolutionized responses to sneezes
from bless you to get away from me.
It shut down schools and flights
bringing governments to its knees.

It snatched sleep from health workers,
that now risk their lives every day to be
the hustle towards the cure of it.

It declined stock markets,
dissipated jobs like
they were a mere nothing.

It ticked off the many goals of our buckets list
by travelling across the world,
and leaving the world impacted.

It disconnected touch,
grafted face masks onto people.
But wait, France is this a veil you’ll ban as well?

It revolutionized greetings,
made many of us home bounded –
is this the final push to making every inch of our lives digitalised?

As for the kids,
the final teachings of their doctors,
teachers and parents is put to work;
they’re finally washing their hands.

They wanted to go, but not today

But how many ways can you split the infinitive?

The wars upon the seashore harbor regrets of their own

Sanguine colors in the sand

They are reminders of blood filled horizons

Nonetheless, the tide that day offered only strangulation

Into the deep they went, never to return

In simpler times, they buried their dead at sea

Now they come to rest precisely where they fall

It's the new math: count on your fingers and toes the number of blows

But how many ways can you split infinity?

i can't meet my own family
have to stay inside among a
room of blinds and strangers
isolated from my close ones

it is the worst day of my life
no other chance no other light
ridiculously lonely fights
gimme some space and a new face

painful memories in the making
there's no time for aching
no catchy phrases no money
i'll be dead soon right before noon

covid-19 is a strong breed
and it needs me as his feed
got no time left for crying
my dears i will be dying

Waterworks are failing

Nile faucet tears

***** powder salt

Plague blood wine

Fermented analgesic sea

Swallow Ebers papyrus

Swallow ******'s scroll

Raze the periscope, this is no crusade

Born blind under duress

They sink mid-thigh in pools of acronym

Copper pennies at their toes

Can't wish for things they haven't been
taught to believe

Steal them instead

They'll get a parade for far less

But then again the winds might turn

The sea might divide master and slave

And there they shall be peeing their pants

"In caelum fero--we make our mark"

You picked a bad day to fight, Egyptian

I love you so much
that I would share my toilet
paper with you, babe

10:50 PM
12/3/20