Pandemic is a 4-letter word
I have wished upon a Facebook post
never to have known my family as I know them now
Arguing across a divide
where we forget we are related
for the principle of the thing
A 4-letter word called mask
and vaxx
and hoax
Who knew how far up
a 6 inch q-tip could reach
We don’t even speak the same language anymore
and Kin has become epithet
I want only to still believe that we,
as a beings inhabiting this planet,
are salvageable,
that we have the dust of the cosmos
to guide our emergence
and there is no worse corruption of the flesh than Self-ish
my shadowself now squelched smaller than a mustard seed
To constantly seek reassurances
thru the veil of my own confirmation bias.
That I am wrong about all this.
I want to be wrong about all this.
Pandemic is a 4-letter word
we toss out the window
at the passing pick-up truck
driven by our neighbor that
called the HOA when we put out that
Welcome to All sign in our yard.
He might even be a cousin.
I am a 4-letter word.