Plague Poems – The Two-Hundred-and-Sixth Week

All of us were told
that we must be willing
to make sacrifices
unfortunately
as it turns out
some of us
are the sacrifice
others are willing to make.

After six weeks in a row
of the plague claiming
more than 2,000 lives
it is heartening
when what would have been
the seventh week
breaks the pattern.

After twenty-two weeks in a row
of the plague claiming
more than 1,000 lives
it is heartbreaking
when that pattern
is continued
for a twenty-third week.

According to the WHO
“we have a virus
that will continue to change
as we let it circulate rapidly”
alas it is quite difficult
to convince people to heed
such warnings, now that
the public health emergency
has ended
a fact which likely haunts
whoever ended it.

At times
I try to make sense
of the kind and decent people
who have forgotten
about the pandemic,
sometimes I worry
that the virus
has damaged their memory,
other times I worry
they weren’t ever
so kind or decent,
and I’m not sure
which of these explanations
is worse.

Editorial Note: This is a collection of Plague Poems written between February 17, 2024 and February 23, 2024.

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.

We were told
that we had no choice
but to learn
to live with the virus
but in the end
the virus learned
to live within us.

A note
to the kind stranger
who was unsure
whether my words referred
to the crisis, or
to the pandemic, or
to the catastrophe:
my apologies
for not being clearer
but in these dark times
I am often myself unsure
to which of those
my words are referring.

A helpful tip:
should you see a stranger
wearing a mask
there is no need to tell them
“you’re the only person
wearing a mask in here”
for they already know
rest assured
they already know.

The new normal
in which we are told
we need not care
for one another
is just like
the old normal
in which we were told
we did not need to care
for one another
what was abnormal
was that brief moment
early in the pandemic
when we were told
to care
for one another.

I remember being taught
that when confronted
with danger
humans will react with either
fight or flight
but as I look around now
at all of the people
confronted by danger
I do not see them
fighting or flying
but calmly pretending
that there is no danger.

When I ask my cousin
how her classes are
she admits she is struggling
at the moment, she fears,
she is failing viruses and virology,
and because I try
to be a good older cousin
I tell her to have some perspective
after all, at the moment
we’re all failing viruses and virology.

My friend, the activist,
argues that the virus
has provided us
with an opportunity
to see people
for who they really are
and while I do not disagree
I wish there had been a way
to learn this
that did not involve
providing so many of us
to the virus.

A new study suggests
“Official COVID-19
mortality statistics
have not fully captured
deaths
attributable to SARS-CoV-2”
the true death toll
is likely some 16% higher,
which just goes to show
that what makes our losses
literally incalculable
is that we have failed
to calculate them.

My exhausted friend
in this moment
I wish that I could
take your hand
and hold it
so you would know
that you are not alone
but there is distance
a great distance between us
so instead
I have written you these words
they cannot hold your hand
but you can hold them.

If you are waiting
for the world to end
you will need to be patient
billions of years remain
until the sun consumes the earth
but while you wait
for the world to end
just know that the world
as you knew it
is ending all around you.

Usually
nothing pleases me more
that having a reason
to learn something new
though I must admit
I could have done without
the present moment
providing me a reason
to learn
about the symptoms of measles.

The collective noun
for a group of rhinos
is a crash,
and the collective noun
for a group of owls
is a parliament,
it’s a gaze of raccoons,
a conspiracy of ravens,
and a sloth of bears–
but you should know
that “a mystery”
is not the collective noun
for a virus that is everywhere.

Pandemics seldom look
the way we think they should
no plague carts
trundle down the street
amidst calls of “bring out your dead,”
no skeletal hordes
out of a Bruegel painting
attack us with scythes,
this pandemic does not look like that
but if it did
we would still ignore it.

Everyone keeps telling me
that I have to try
that I have to really try
to stay positive
but what they don’t understand
is that I am trying
is that I am really trying
to keep testing negative.

My grandfather was wrong
when in my youth he insisted
that my green hair
was poor preparation for adulthood
for learning to ignore
strangers’ comments and stares
has proven to be vital preparation
for wearing a mask
in this unending pandemic.

When the sky doesn’t fall
when Troy doesn’t burn
when the wolf doesn’t come
when Ninevah is spared
we roll our eyes and chuckle
at those poor anxious fools
who got themselves so worked up
but my maskless friend
before you laugh
go glance at a mirror
for you are looking unwell.

I am sorry to be the one
who must tell you this
but your kindergarten teacher
was lying to you
when they said
that it costs nothing
to be kind,
for kindness will cost you
time and effort
patience and emotion,
it costs a lot to be kind,
and yet our unkindness
costs us everything.

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

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