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My pandemic panorama Produces a plethora of play. Inside my cage of drama Comes a theatre each day. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/27/pan…

I note, not without bitterness, that this sadly says it all. As if a rectangle of blue plastic with strings and a squirt of antiseptic was ever going to be enough. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/27/aft…

As we attuned to lockdown we forgot how life had once worked, our soundtrack gone like an interrupted livestream. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/27/por…

The way it’s supposed to work is this: she goes into the trenches, fights disease and thanks to her and others folk get well. This isn’t Disney. There are some they lose. The odds are, mostly, reasonable. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/27/thr…

On the first day of lockdown, I stopped my watch And hung it on my writing desk. To slip beneath the wrinkles of Time’s face And sleep within the sandy trench. I hope I will wake. Daniel Hinds poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/28/two…

Sitting in the bleachers of a raucous rally, we listen as they pack our old suitcase with wrinkled shirts and holey socks A week’s worth of laundry that stinks up the room. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/28/thr…

You can hear the rumpus rumbling all the way from aisle four where some heavyweight contenders are arguing the score. The champ has got a trolley-full, her challenger sod all. They're going at it toe-to-toe. The writing's on the wall poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/28/thr…

In sanctuary of an unlatched porch I’ve laid my cycle down. The door is thick-strong oak: long hinges brace nail-studded beams, an iron ring for handle. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/28/thr…

Consider your so-called life, that is, if your hemming and hawing between stolen life and pre-life, stolen life and pre-life can be dignified by that term. Sure, there are adjectives we living beings are driven to apply to you: rapacious, single-minded... poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/28/fou…

pausing at street corners to see if my flesh becomes brick. Shin bones straight like streetlamps- face lit only by phone-screen light. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/thr…

If 2020 is the Year we Will Hate Forever I can Honestly Say I saw it Coming I do not need to hear the world is ending to know that the thrill of something good is no more. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/if-…

stuck we’re stuck in this place, this time poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/two…

The Globe is vibrating with the Coronavirus. Has there ever been such a threat to human life? Yet now unseen and unknown it is overtaking the planet. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/cov…

How do you count the cost of the worldwide Covid-19 toll? Begin digging the first hole. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/thr…

Fire asserted its destructive power. Rivers choked. Mankind prayed. Forgive us our reckless ways. Rain came. Cathartic tears to wash away the flame and extinguish our fears. HollyAHarvey Author poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/ele…

I dreamt you were the only one in your house, a few months after that I saw all the world and all its people laughing, a party was going on María poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/thr…

tomber / pas de bourrée / glissade / jeté fall down / stumble like a drunk / glide/ throw it away poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/pas…

I am a dot on the face of this page a white wilderness diary boxed in by dates with no purpose it is new year in May it is new year in June the page edges boundary a redundancy poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/two…

They are just little white marks on the scan, and they are floating shapes that make me think of clouds— clouds that look like funny things, cute things. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/two…

That it’s hard not to take it personally when people avoid you like the plague. That a word, or a smile, or saying hello with your eyes can make all the difference. poetryandcovid.com/2021/07/29/wha…