Low grade fever, juni-
per allergies, falling asleep
By the fire and it’s not even noon
The kids don’t start going stir crazy
Until 3 pm, after a hike at 32 degrees and
homeschool and baking whole wheat torillas
I get a personal shopper to insta-brave the world
Her name is Roberta and she stands too close as she hands
The box of food filled with replacements for all I ordered, nothing green because
The store ran out of produce. Ran out of produce
And I lost my checks and my old friend bought a badmiton set because
The idea of lockdown excites him, he who has nothing better to do than go to
Target, during the pandemic. He tells the kids not to worry,
He’s got toilet paper for miles, and he’s making Gnocci like a manic penguin, flapping arms and shouting the recipe through FaceTime. This novel virus, novel to him because
For the first time perhaps the preciousness of life, seems like something to cultivate, not just spend like quarters at the arcade, fast cars and greasy fingerprints until your pocket is empty.We are all falling. Some of us have already hit earth, the ground not far.
Some of us will fall, and fall.
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