Short-sighted

En route
observe by taking in
filters
your immediate surroundings,
eyes touching face coverings,
nothing could effectively hide
what is done
inside
is being done by undoing,
by implementing more restrictions
moving
others to do the same.

We stay
inside,
like obedient house-pets
longing for fresh air
hanging our heads
out the window
we notice
how it smells
like something new.

Pacing ourselves
replaces racing toward the End where
no meetings will take place-
in person
there is less
to get, less we can do, less available, less security,
less was nevermore than just enough.

What goes around
in circles
gets smaller, our circles ellipse
until we end
up
with no points
of contact.

We leave the blanks
instead of filling our barrels with ammunition,
from six feet away
we look the same underneath
our personal protection,
mortal and our skin feels too thin.

We covered our bases
and dirt floors
until the rug unraveled
leaving the looming
predictions
dyed without a pattern.



Photograph credit: Ministry of Information Photo Division Photographer, 1941 in Public domain.

Laven sus manos

Gone viral,
we wanted it to spread
and get (over)shared
causing compulsive comparison
to Others without knowing each Others
weaknesses and whereabouts
for certain-
Nothing was True.

Meanwhile,
Happy Hypochondriacs
sanitize and vocalize
worst-case-scenarios, collecting
those contagious conspiracies
which only produce worries,
conduce anxieties,
and make base greeds
of basic necessities,
like Shelter in Place
of Touch.

Subtle desperation
severs nerves, a cough creates
a panic-an evil eye blinks
and there is scattering
demonstrated
by the invisible nature
Here
hypothesized by Heisenberg;
Evil was everywhere
and No-where in between.

Empty shelves, service interruptions,
bleeding bank accounts, children with
nightmares, 'we are here for you-
remotely' notes abound
like spam and cans stockpiled
pantries
the little things
settled in-

Contagion like credit is Everywhere
and Nowhere
at the same time, in principle
Paranoid Pandemic Preaching
echoed inside idiot boxes inside
dwellings
lined with blockades formerly called
mending walls.

And out of busy-ness
(Safer than apologies)

the world pauses its somatic play
another day, another showing
and it was never the same-
This intermission
This time
on our soiled hands
must have been stolen.

Where?
Where is it?
From where?
Invisible enemies.

No-body will say-
None could say-
for certain-
times-
like these,
I imagine in no time
it occurs
like the poles flipped
the world-over-all the while,
the atmosphere remained
negatively charged
and all seemed the same-
the opposite was true.

None knew what to do
in reality
with all their excess of pluses and minuses
too many took stock
for themselves
renumerating and yet still
remembering to carry the One
higher value
all the way to The End.



Painting by Maximillien Luce (1858-1941) 'Man Washing' c. 1887 in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons. 

Off the shelf

The panic button was pushed.

A paranoia pandemic 

encircled the globe

like storms on Jupiter,

ominous and ionically charged

propigating and intending

malice and malaise.

Under the thumb of gravity, 

our species 

sees a-head

and worries-

Empty shelves and

idle ATM's

had nothing

to offer 

escape.

The bottom line

supply and demand 

Tottered instead of teetered.

Consumerism consumed

thoughts, dictators dodged

questions and regurgitated 

gossip. Useless garbage in, 

makes for rich compost out.

At least, 

It smells that way. 

Some of the mess we have made

cannot be broken down

in a lifetime.

And what was 

Disposable

was defined as-conveniently

placed within arms reach 

and whose sole purpose

goes down the drain

after use.

We all became less

flushed with the shameful

and frequent

ease of letting go. 

Adaptations aren't always

fine tuning, streamlining or

ameliorative animations.

Out of mind, out of sight, they assumed,

they were the last ones.

There was no TP, 

the people forgot the times

Before

being told-crap-

What to do 

When empty store shelves meant

No more-

control.

I too, fell hard.

Off the shelf, lastly,

I had been teetering at the 

Tip-top too long,

Dust settled

On my broad shoulders

everyone was afraid

to Touch-

Until this one time 

and occasion called for a round, 

ceremonious and rite

whereby church and state agree

the sheeple will never see

a way with out.

There is no more TP

But a surplus of crap.

There is too much TV

and not enough to

entertain

idle hands.

After all,

happily and 

Finally, 

some one, 

like me, be-

comes mysteriously 

Married 

and off the market 

for good-

ness sake,

Mass hysteria

May Be

chronic infections of fear

closer to the heart 

of survival and dependence

as if equal to or greater than

quantity signified security.

Image dated 25 September 1968

Taken in Brazil

Description: Manifestação estudantil contra a Ditadura Militar