Tuesday, June 16, 2020

The Cough: Corona in Lock-up - a poem

You wake up each morning and look all around.
The board is updated and the numbers tick down.
The grim faces, the quiet, the tension all about,
the coughing has started, but nobody's gettin' out.

Where's Slugger?  Saw him playin' chess last night.
The AW assures us that everything's all right.
The indifference, the neglect, the anger...we shout.
Cough's comin' for us, nobody's gettin' out.

160, 150, 140...the count continues to drop.
We're told, "Give it two weeks, it's all gonna stop.
We want to let you go, we just haven't the clout."
The cough's all around, someone please let us out?

Late at night in your bunk, you tamp down your fears,
face in the pillow, wanting to swallow your tears.
You've accepted the truth.  There can't be any doubt.
Some friends won't be back.  The cough took them out.


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