Plague Poems – The Hundred-and-Ninetieth Week

When the historians
try to bestow a name
on this wretched decade
all these years
of plagues
of disasters
of catastrophes
of hatred
they could do worse
than to call these years
the decade of incalculable losses.

*

Noticing
the communicator badge
on my coat’s lapel
my student asked
if I think that show
is correct
and the universe is filled
with intelligent life,
and as I didn’t want to say
that what the show got right
was predicting
a catastrophic 21st century,
I just said “I don’t know.”

*

I ask my friend
who lives in the big city
how the demonstration was
and she tells me
of solidarity and empathy
of flags and banners
of grief and hope
but then she pauses
and she tells me
that so very many
of the people there
were coughing.

*

When I ask him
how he is holding up
my friend, the mathematician,
tells me that it is difficult
to have hope in this moment
when our inhumanity
is increasing exponentially
and our humanity
is barely even increasing linearly.

*

Editorial Note: This is a collection of Plague Poems written between October 28, 2023 and November 3, 2023.

They were initially posted online on X/Twitter at @plaguepoems, on Mastodon at @plaguepoems@mastodon.social, on Bluesky at @plaguepoems, on Threads at @plague_poems, and on Instagram at @plague_poems.

Throughout the duration of this crisis new poems will be posted regularly at the above mentioned accounts, they will then be collected and reposted here as weekly compendiums.

*

Throughout the pandemic
we were encouraged
to practice social distancing
to practice good handwashing
to practice taking precautions
we’ve had years
years in which to practice
but it seems the only thing
we’ve actually mastered
is ignoring human suffering.

*

Upon seeing my mask
the man called out
that he has a rock
which keeps lions away
and it clearly works
as there are no lions around
and I was too tired to tell him
that there have never been
lions in the Midwest
but the pharmacy we’re in
is out of cold and flu medicine.

*

My exhausted friend
is convinced
the pandemic has revealed
our supply of empathy
to be finite
and slow to replenish
which may be true
but keeping it in perspective
the pandemic mainly revealed
that many people
never had much empathy
in the first place.

*

According to the news
on November first
the federal coverage
of most COVID drugs
will end
at which point
we will not longer be able to say
that “we have the tools”
no, from that point forward
we will have to say
“you have the tools
that you can afford.”

*

When I tell her that I’m worried
about the future
she replies by explaining in detail
all the things I need to do
in order to get promoted
and though I listen politely
I don’t think she understood me
it’s not that I’m worried
about my future
I’m worried about the future.

*

Listen, I get it,
sometimes a cough
really is just a cough
summer is over
and with colder seasons
comes cold season
listen, I get it,
but that doesn’t mean
I want to contract it.

*

I know a scholar
who knows the right terms
he’s read the important books
knows the key thinkers
and mentions their names
as if knows them personally
he knows exactly what to say
how to perfectly explain all this
but he’s saving it
for the book he’ll write
after he has tenure.

*

Count your blessings!
This is what she advises
in response to my
woeful countenance,
but how crass it feels
to count your blessings
in these times
of countless deaths.

*

The hip young person
in front of me in line
wears a pink sweater
featuring a bright rainbow
and in bubble letters
the all caps statement
“let’s die together”
and though I say nothing to them
I simply can’t imagine
wearing a slogan like that
in a moment like this.

*

Apparently officials
are growing concerned
that after more than a month
only 7% of adults
only 2% of children
have gotten booster shots
which just goes to show
that if you keep telling people
the pandemic is over
many of them will act like it.

*

The nervous tension
is gone
from my anxious friend’s voice
no longer does he talk
of professional concerns
of relationship fears
of financial woes
he says he has a new perspective
his new perspective is:
“everything’s fucked
so I’m right to be anxious”
and I fear he has a point.

*

When we were young
and angry
my friends and I
would roll our eyes
at the old hippies at the protests
with their peace sign placards,
we saw ourselves as radicals
and them as old fools,
but now that I am older
and still angry
I sadly appreciate
how radical a demand
peace can be.

*

As we wait
for the meeting to start
two of my colleagues
commiserate
about how they are always tired
no matter what they do
no matter how much they sleep
always, the exhaustion,
they note that everyone
keeps getting sick
but not them, they are fine,
just tired, always tired.

*

Last fall, as I walked to work
the leaves on the ground
were mingled
with discarded masks
but now all I see
are the dead leaves
I wish this was a sign
that my neighbors
have stopped littering
but I know it is simply
that my neighbors
are no longer wearing masks.

*

Most people are polite
the sight of a masked face
may propel some to anger
but most people
simply look away and carry on
they’re the type who say
please and thank you
who hold the door open
they are nice and happy to help
just as long as doing so
does not inconvenience them.

*

My friend
if you are worried
that the protest
will be filled
with coughing people.

My friend
if you are worried
that the protest
will be surrounded
by hostile cameras.

My friend
if these are your worries
might I suggest
that you wear a mask
as it will protect you
from both.

*

History will remember
yes, of course,
history will remember
but the question
is not if
history will remember
but if you will.

*

*

Plague Poems…the following week

Plague Poems…the first week

Plague Poems…the full list

 

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 librarianshipwreck.wordpress.com @libshipwreck

View all posts by Z.M.L →