"More than machinery, we need humanity."

Plague Poems – The Eighth Week

Freedom is not
a concept that
can be easily

But I am sure
that there must
be more to
than shopping.


You who enjoy the parks
while the sun shines
and the flowers bloom
ensure that the parks
will be turned into
mass graves
by the time the leaves
turn red and fall.


Enough is a dirty word
in our language
there can and must
always be more
so much more.

But now the hunger
for more means
that there will be
thousands upon thousands
of additional deaths.

If only we had decided
that one death
was more than


Those who devoted
years to instructing you
to disregard the ragged
prophets of doom
now stand ready
to profit off the doom
that those ragged few
had desperately tried
to warn you about.


Editorial Note: This is a collection of Plague Poems written between May 3, 2020 and May 8, 2020.

They were initially posted online on Twitter at @plaguepoems

Throughout the duration of this crisis new poems will be posted regularly at that Twitter account, they will then be collected and reposted here in weekly increments.


It is difficult to
that thing will get
even worse
when you have spent
your life
being assured that
everything is getting


Despite what you may
have been taught
by your history teacher
our civilization never
practicing human sacrifice
it only devised increasingly
clever ways
for describing the practice.


Having concluded that
it would be very
to defeat the plague
our leaders decided that
it would be much cheaper
to dig mass graves.


To hope less
and less
is not the same
as to be hopeless.

Let your every
loss of hope
be a testament
that you had not yet
your store of hope.

As long as you
still have
hope to lose
you can carry on.

Not that this
make you


News from faraway lands
suggests that leaders
can heed their people’s
cry for help
if they so choose.

How wonderful it could be
if on our shores
our leaders were
as committed
to helping the people
as they are
to helping the plague.


The leaders insisting that
their people become
have been arming
the enemy.


The advisories that
drove you
to seek the safety
of quarantine
were not

The lies are coming
from the advisors
who tell you
it is now safe
to leave
your quarantine.


The hands
can be

The mask
can be

The lost job
can be

The loneliess
can be

The death count
can be

What will shatter you
the broken plate.


The people should be
by the many crimes
their leaders are committing
but it is so hard to see
those other misdeeds
behind the growing mountain
of plague victims.


Three and thirty million
now tremble in their
wondering how long
they can survive
on the thin crust
they have been granted.

Clearly they have not heard
the good news
the stock market it
doing well.


Where once the plague
rode its pale horse
through the streets
it has now exchanged
its scythe and sackcloth
for the bright uninform
of the hastily reopened
chain store.


During the reign of
the Black Death
warnings were painted
on the outside of buildings
to alert others that the
plague lurked inside.

During the reign of
the current plague
storekeepers announce
the death’s presence
in their shops by
posting signs reading
“masks not required.”


If afforded the choice
between a
quarantine summer
and an
apocalyptic winter
it would be wise
to choose
the first option.


You need not listen carefully
or press your ear to your door
to hear the knocking
of the plague
asking to be let inside.

Should you seek to drown out
that steady rapping of
bony knucklyes
by turning on the news
you will hear your leaders say
“let him in.”


Stop requesting assistance
do you not know
that the damned
down in hell
want ice water too?

Look not to the heavens
for redemption
you are not in hell
but somewhere


Tragic though the world
may seem today
take comfort it
your certainty
that these are not
the darkest times.

All who have studied
know that bleaker
chapters have
been written.

Your ancestors
who trudged through
the darkest times
comforted themselves
in the same way



Plague Poems…the previous week

Plague Poems…the next week

Plague Poems – The First Week


About Z.M.L

“I do not believe that things will turn out well, but the idea that they might is of decisive importance.” – Max Horkheimer @libshipwreck

14 comments on “Plague Poems – The Eighth Week

  1. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Seventh Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  2. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Sixth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  3. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Fifth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  4. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Fourth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  5. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Third Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  6. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Second Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  7. Pingback: Plague Poems – The First Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  8. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Ninth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  9. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Tenth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  10. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Eleventh and Twelfth Weeks | LibrarianShipwreck

  11. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Thirteenth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  12. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Fourteenth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  13. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Fifteenth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

  14. Pingback: Plague Poems – The Sixteenth Week | LibrarianShipwreck

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