In times of crisis, some people turn to alcohol, some knitting, some break into tears. I’ve even heard of some whack-a-doodles finding comfort in poetry. I’ve tried all the others without success, so today I tried my hand at poetry. I think it went well.
Love
We must love one another,
Only love will set us free.
Free, like that is fucking a thing anymore.
Love this, from my house jail, fucking Free.
Tweet This
When I listen to the doctors, I feel their pain and fear
I know they were respected once, their voices calm and clear.
Now we see them talking circles. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Listen to the science now, Trump says in his latest tweet.
sWeeping
Lift my broom to sweep
Instead, I begin to weep
Dirt floors topped with tears
Once Was a Man
There once was a man on a junket
He said of the masks, ‘Go Fuck It’
He rallied and ranted
Lied and recanted
Now he’s got Covid, so suck it.
Get Out
The door is shut, on purpose
I do not wish you near.
I have been in here ‘forever’
It’s a place I hold dear.
It has a door that locks
Good wifi reception too.
A seat built only for one
I don’t care it smells like poo.
The door is shut, on purpose
I need to be alone.
The lid is down, my pants are on,
But everyone is home.
So go away and leave me,
I will yell if you don’t comply.
The door is shut, on purpose
Now leave mummy alone to cry.
Hope, a Haiku
We hope for a cure
A cure sets us free from hell
Covid hell. Fuck you
Irony
We needed his guidance, he gave us his anger
We needed his leadership, he gave us medical advice
We needed his strength, he drank from a cup with two hands
We needed him to stay healthy, he fell victim to his own stupidity
We need him to go. Peacefully in January
We need him to survive. So they can walk him out
We need him to tweet. To move his base to blue
We need him to Make America Great Again without his help
I feel better. Stay safe. Wear a mask. Listen to science.
