Coronaville ya-ya-ya
As we live the life of Coronaville
and the virus harvests
additional lungs,
and lockdown after lockdown
confounds lovers’ hopes
and workday plans,
I watch my workmates
plot vaccines and more appealing
masks
or count the living
and predict the deaths.
And as I too plan research
and I too huddle in a locked-down town,
I wonder about the time when Coronaville is done.
Will we later look back at Coronaville
as the good old days?
As months of innocence
when we did not yet know
of the in-coming kaleidoscope
of further plagues?
And did not yet feel
the methane-laden breath
of global swarming,
when that final flaming dragon
flew near on golden wings of greed?