One Hundred Seventy-Third Entry
a bead of sweat
trickling down her face
the masked nurse
gives shot after shot ...
Make America Hug Again
One Hundred Seventy-Fourth Entry
outbreak briefing
the doctor's new strands
of gray hair
One Hundred Seventy-Fifth Entry
sound of ice pellets
against nursing home windows ...
new cases surge
One Hundred Seventy-Sixth Entry
banging and beeping
echo through Myanmar skies ...
masked protestors
chanting drive Evil out
with three-finger salutes
FYI: The three-finger salute, copied from Hong Kong and Thailand pro-democracy activists, originally comes from the Hunger Game films.
One Hundred Seventy-Seventh Entry, written on the eve of the Senate impeachment trial and in response to the "Trumphole dilemma" (Liu-esque equivalent of "alcohol dilemma," coined and copyrighted by this Trumpholic poet)
each word I write
about the Loser-in-Chief
morphs into red spikes ...
my quarantined mind mismatched
with the mouth of my Muse
One Hundred Seventy-Eighth Entry, in memory of Gabriel García Márquez
Unlove in the Time of Covid
Valentine's Day,
it is what it is ...
the smell of snow
dark chocolate
melting in her mouth then mine
afternoon trance
two meters
between our masked faces
a snowdrift at night
One Hundred Seventy-Ninth Entry
first warm day
of this pandemic winter
my niece
sings her song with each slap
of a beaded jump rope
One Hundred Eightieth Entry
a surge of wind
social distance between me
and an unmasked white man
One Hundred Eighty-First Entry
midnight moon
the silence between me
and a masked driver
One Hundred Eighty-Second Entry
written in response to America's half a million Covid deaths
The Toll
"We often hear people described as ordinary Americans. There's nothing ordinary about them." With a moment's pause for reflection, the President continues, "The people we lost were extraordinary. They span generations. Born in America, emigrated to America."
the flags
flying at half-mast
for five days
the White House
lit by candles
Television light flickers on a wrinkled face. "So many of these extraordinary Americans took their final breath alone." His voice is scarcely above a whisper.
the number
on the TV screen
in bold red
he stares into the future
from his nursing home window
One Hundred Eighty-Third Entry
in the clinic
on the edge of my chair
waiting for results
I'm alone, surrounded
by masked men and women
One Hundred Eighty-Fourth Entry
alone
even when I'm not alone ...
in TV's light
a masked patient grasps
for his last breath of faith
One Hundred Eighty-Fifth Entry
we'reallinthistogether
snowonsnowonhomelessshelter
One Hundred Eighty-Sixth Entry
bathed in sunlight
an eagle lies motionless
against the sky --
this quarantine life
and yet ...
One Hundred Eighty-Seventh Entry
written in response to the "shecession (she-recession)"
in her eyes
the thousand-yard stare ...
once a manager
now the Commander-In-Chief
with kids fighting in quarantine
One Hundred Eighty-Eighth Entry
smoky twilight ...
between a police phalanx
and rows of men
with their three-finger salutes
a masked nun in white
One Hundred Eighty-Ninth Entry
I guess Covidiots love company -- paraphrasing Cynthia Hand
the Idaho sky
darkened by columns of smoke ...
Burn the Mask
One Hundred Ninetieth Entry
third wave coming ...
on TV Spirit-filled protesters
raise their fists
in winter chill, chanting
God is greater than Caesar
One Hundred Ninety-First Entry
at the rally
tens of thousands shout
no more lockdowns ...
flies bouncing around
inside an empty bottle
quarantined
in this beach motel
for two weeks
the seawall of silence
between me and shadows
One Hundred Ninety-Second Entry, written in response to the new report details 'disturbing rise' in anti-Asian hate crimes in Canada, CTV News, March 23
an old Asian man
knocked down by white men
one-day-old headline
replaced by mass-shooting news
as usual, life goes on ...
One Hundred Ninty-Third Entry
more variant cases
the wintry chill
in a raven's call
One Hundred Ninety-Fourth Entry
written in response to this "not-so-shocking" 😠 news: "Canada's COVID-19 case rate now tops U.S. rate," CBC News, April 12
a sharp spike
in covid variant cases ...
at twilight
the slow descent of a kite
severed from its string
One Hundred Ninety-Fifth Entry
the wisps spread
into a bank of dark clouds ...
three-million mark
One Hundred Ninety-Sixfth Entry
thunderclouds
another coffin lowered
into a mass grave
One Hundred Ninety-Seventh Entry
the mournful sounds
of a lone Scottish piper
echo off church walls ...
the masked Queen in black
alone for the first time
FYI: Wilfred Frost, CNBC anchor and son of David Frost, said on Saturday morning that the queen's "bubble" was her husband prior to his death. He added her being alone at his funeral is quite poignant, saying, she will literally "have no shoulder to cry on," "Queen Elizabeth says goodbye to Prince Philip with a note laid on his casket," Today, April 17, 2021
One Hundred Ninety-Eighth Entry
sharp spike in cases ...
through the hallway murmurs
of triage care
One Hundred Ninety-Ninth Entry
snaking lines
outside the testing center
a white man
speaks Chinglish at me
I respond with a smile, connard!
(French, one of the official languages of Canada: asshole!)
Two Hundredth Entry
a rover
searches the Martian dust
for ancient life ...
a masked shelter cook mutes the TV
then starts chopping bags of potatoes
Two Hundred and First Entry, written in response to Chloé Zhao's Oscar award winning movie, Nomadland
I'm just houseless ...
this social distancing
between me
and a masked old woman
with an accent like mine
Two Hundred and Second Entry
the smoke
from row upon row
of funeral pyres
streaking the Delhi skies ...
a stray howls into the night
Two Hundred and Third Entry
zipped body bags
this lingering smell
of monsoon rain
Two Hundred and Fourth Entry
the last breath
escapes their father's lips ...
his masked sons' anger
burns like row upon row of pyres
darkening the Delhi skies
Two Hundred and Fifth Entry
howling
into smoky darkness
stray dogs in Delhi
Two Hundred and Sixth Entry
politicians
talk again among themselves
in gathering dark
Covid won't end anywhere
until it ends everywhere
Two Hundred and Seventh Entry
leafless branches
scratching hospital windows ...
sharp spike in cases
Two Hundred and Eighth Entry
gathering dark
hospital windows shut
against pyre smoke
Two Hundred and Ninth Entry
spiralling
funeral pyre smoke and dust
all week long
the workers enveloped
in their own unrest
Two Hundred and Tenth Entry
a flood of memories
from the black hole of the past ...
three white kids
ride their bikes by me
yelling SARS, SARS
four years of Trump
and four seasons of Covid ...
I take sleeping pills
and curl into a race-blind dream,
the fifth corner of my world
Two Hundred and Eleventieth Entry
written after Biden signed the Covid-19 Hate Crimes Act
The "New Yellow Peril"
kung flu ...
on a white man's face
this meaty grin
another old Asian man
knocked to the ground
job growth slows sharply
Go back to China
this voice at the back door
of my quarantined mind
FYI: A Chinese-American civil rights group is suing Trump for $22.9m for calling COVID-19 the 'China Virus' and 'Kung Flu'. That's $1 for each Asian American and Pacific Islander living in the US. Joshua Zitser, Business Insider, May 22, 2021
Two Hundred and Twentieth Entry
jump, jump, jumping
on the backyard trampoline
made in Wuhan ...
now I'm six feet higher
than the white neighbor's fence
Two Hundred and Thirteenth Entry
another
politician breaks the rule ...
we are all
inthistogether
under unseasonal heat
Two Hundred and Fourteenth Entry
blank squares and cross-outs
on my appointment calendar
shelter-in-place
Two Hundred and Fifteenth Entry
a blackbird
splitting the sunset ...
spike in cases
Two Hundred and Sixteenth Entry
one day less
and one day older
at first light
this winter stillness
of my quarantine life
Two Hundred and Seventeenth Entry
this smile
not the one I expected ...
an expanse
of blue in the eyes
of a masked cashier
Two Hundred and Eighteenth Entry
35,000
vaccines hit the landfill
in Detroit ...
under the smoky skies
rows of pyres in Delhi
Two Hundred and Nineteenth Entry
in windy twilight
a blackbird rising, falling ..
this pandemic life
Two Hundred and Twentieth Entry
pink-streaked sky
fades from her bouncy castle
shelter in place
Two Hundred and Twenty-First Entry
stranded whales
seen from my quarantine room
cumulus clouds
Two Hundred and Twenty-Second Entry
no strings attached
to vaccine donations ...
a spiderweb hangs
in the ceiling corner
of a UN-sponsored food bank
Two Hundred and Twenty-Third Entry
sundowning
her masked face pressed against
the nursing home window
Two Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Entry
We'reAll In This T o g e t h e r
the drive-thru speaker
with a note taped over it:
We are closed
because I just quit this job
this thankless low-paying job
with his fist raised high
the manager shouting out
to masked workers
one dollar an hour
pandemic pay hike
Two Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Entry
this speed racing
between Covid variants
and second shots --
UN aid workers stare
at one rickshaw of rice
one pet fad
after another ...
in TV's light
my robo-dog and I
sink into the loveseat
Two Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Entry
dewdrops of sun
on a bent blade of grass ...
this quarantine life
Two Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Entry
smoky twilight
body after body floating
in the Ganges
Two Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Entry
words on a banner
We're All In This T o g e t h e r
twisting in the wind ...
in a single text message
one thousand nurses laid off
Two Hundred and Thirtieth Entry
living alone
in this friendly world
of masked faces ...
through a glass barrier
my friend looks deadly quiet
Two Hundred and Thirty-First Entry
new cases surge
a guard social distances further
from the nurse
Two Hundred and Thirty-Second Entry
What has been will be again
after months
of wearing flip-flops
a masked woman
in red high heels
teeters toward the mall
skateboarders
in backward baseball caps
zigzagging
across the downtown square
first day of re-opening
a young dude
with a pack of cold beer
heads for the park
hip-hop songs blasting
at a mask-free crowd
a masked guard
in the breezy twilight
a dozen
line up at the clinic
with the Vax-A-Million sign
FYI: What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.Ecclesiastes, 1:9, NIV
Two Hundred and Thirty-Third Entry
suddenly awake
with my heart beating fast
I hear my cry
in my disheveled wife's cries:
Vax-a-Million winner!
Two Hundred and Thirty-Fourth Entry
quarantined in an attic room
face to face with my inner child
Two Hundred and Thirty-Fifth Entry
a billionaire
blasting off into space ...
an old masked man
turns off the TV and walks
to the soup kitchen line
Two Hundred and Thirty-Sixth Entry
alone for weeks
in a quarantine motel
the sound
of my body rolling
against midnight quietness
Two Hundred and Thirty-Seventh Entry
weeds sprout
through cracks in the pavement ...
breakthrough cases surging
Two Hundred and Thirty-Eighth Entry
first homecoming
all these masked faces
now strangers
Two Hundred and Thirty-Ninth Entry
the bitter sting
of late night black coffee ...
quarantined
for weeks without thoughts
of touching myself
Two Hundred and Fortieth Entry
Grand Re-Opening
bikini-clad mannequins
watch a masked man
Two Hundred and Forty-First Entry
No Mask banners
high above a phalanx
of protesters ...
a masked teen holds his hand
in an L shape near his face
FYI: The hand gesture, widely used by teens, in Ls 4&5 means the Loser.
Two Hundred and Forty-Second Entry
distant sirens
break the predawn stillness
Covidsomnia
Two Hundred and Forty-Third Entry
one crow on the wire now three more variants on the rise
Two Hundred and Forty-Fourth Entry
heat shimmer
branded on my door
Two Hundred and Forty-Fifth Entry
A Fourth Wave Brewing
under the heat dome
face to face with banners
in red and blue:
go back to normal
covid is not over yet
sunlight flooding
through stained glass windows ...
from the rows
of masked congregants
a cough echoes
no mask
no contact tracing
no quarantine ...
a heat mirage on the road
to Build Back Whatever
Two Hundred and Forty-Sixth Entry
heat haze ...
beneath a willow's shade
mud-stained masks
Two Hundred and Forty-Seventh Entry
warehouse gossip
spreading aisle by aisle
new variant
Two Hundred and Forty-Eighth Entry
lockdown lifted
seeing me, the neighbor turns
into a side street
Two Hundred and Forty-Ninth Entry
racism virus ...
at City Square, an Asian man
in a hazmat suit
Two Hundred and Fiftieth Entry
graveyard billboard
put up on Friday, 13th
in neon lights
not vaccinated yet
you may be here soon
Two Hundred and Fifty-First Entry
I trust God
to be my shield and healer
loud and louder ...
holding his cross, a patient stares
at masked doctors and nurses
Two Hundred and Fifty-Second Entry
lockdown lifted
boys and girls rolling downhill
into squeals of laughter
Two Hundred and Fifty-Third Entry
written in response to Canadian snap pandemic election
politicians
crisscrossing from coast to coast
Alpha, Beta, Delta ...
Two Hundred and Fifty-Fourth Entry
inspired by CBS News, August 17: Catholic Cardinal [Raymond Leo Cardinal Burke, Archbishop Emeritus of St. Louis] who spread vaccine misinformation now on a ventilator battling COVID-19
another
covid skeptic struggles
for his breath ...
cicadas calling loud
and louder in summer heat
Two Hundred and Fifty-Fifth Entry
bedside candles
light the silence of her room
new surge in cases
Two Hundred and Fifty-Sixfth Entry
a clot of shoppers
arguing in the hallway
vaccine pass check
Two Hundred and Fifty-Seventh Entry
breakthrough cases surge
sheltered in my attic room
I feel safe ... for now
Two Hundred and Fifty-Eighth Entry
Zoom therapist's forehead lines
deepening ...
and mine too (I think)
Two Hundred and Fifty-Nineth Entry
lockdown lifted
children's laughter circling
grandpa's farm house
Two Hundred and Sixtieth Entry
quarantined
in a cheap motel room ...
new variant
added to her list of complaints
about her husband
Two Hundred and Sixty-First Entry
quarantined
for another two weeks
on the loveseat
my first kiss
from the old beagle
Two Hundred and Sixty-Second Entry
window shopping
a new line
of masked mannequins
Two Hundred and Sixty-Third Entry
Snap Pandemic Election
six feet apart
and their minds miles away
from each other
five smiling party leaders
shout, get your shot
question after question
answered with talking points
my parrot babbles
in the unseasonal heat
we'reallthistogether
thumbs up
from the photogenic PM
forward, for everyone --
a masked gig worker
gives him the finger
nightly barks
penetrate the thin wall
of my room
build back better blasting
from my neighbor's tv
same old, same old?
I stare in the mirror
on election eve
wondering if I can flatten
the curve of my pot belly
campaign signs
along a winding stretch
of highway
on election night
I sink deep into the couch
Two Hundred and Sixty-Fourth Entry
wave upon wave
of new covid variants ...
my world shrinks
to the size of a friend's garage
doubling as my bedroom
Two Hundred and Sixty-Fifth Entry
inspired by recent news stories and headlines in the most vaccine-rich country
driving around
unmasked freedom protesters
on both sides
of a funeral home van
don't get vaccinated
the wife dies
as the husband gets last glimpses
of their newborn ...
stony silence among five kids
of these two anti-vaxxers
1 in 500
Americans have died of Covid
in my quarantined mind
red letters of the headline
morph into waves of viruses
you, fucking Chinese
don’t fucking get me sick ...
the sultry air
explodes with cluster f-bombs
as onlookers come and go
Two Hundred and Sixty-Sixth Entry
Fridays for Future strike
she puts a Green New Deal mask
on her daughter's face
Two Hundred and Sixty-Seventh Entry
chemistry (tubes) between lab partners
with masks under their chins
Two Hundred and Sixty-Eighth Entry
quarantined mind
the sound of one hand washing
over and over
Two Hundred and Sixty-Ninth Entry
jolted awake
by a recurring nightmare:
my body floats
in a world of styrofoam balls
dotted with red spikes
Two Hundred and Seventieth Entry
a sudden rise
in breakthrough cases ...
hush of leaf fall
Two Hundred and Seventy-First Entry
a long line
at the checkout counter
as sunlight slants in
the masked cashier smiles
with her hazel eyes
Two Hundred and Seventy-Second Entry
Thanksgiving buffet
dining tables six feet apart
under the same roof
Two Hundred and Seventy-Third Entry
police station banner waving
we are still smiling under our masks
Two Hundred and Seventy-Fourth Entry
the masked teacher's dry cough
classroom silence deepens
Two Hundred and Seventy-Fifth Entry
maternity ward
the masked husband answers
with silence
Two Hundred and Seventy-Sixth Entry
I was the first one
but I don't want to be
the last ...
a masked woman looks back
at the sky smoky in Kabul
Two Hundred and Seventy-Seventh Entry
Orthodox graveyard
silhouettedinthemist
wavesofgrief
crashingintowaves
into Covid reality
Two Hundred and Seventy-Eighth Entry
written on Halloween Eve
gathering dark
the masked Grim Reaper's eyeballs
bulge out of his skull
Two Hundred and Seventy-Ninth Entry
prolonged quarantine
the sound of midnight
rough sex next door
Two Hundred and Eightieth Entry
Halloween: Behind The Mask
dripping blood
from my front door banner:
no trick or treat
hazy streetlight
teen vampires kissing
with masks under their chins
more hotspots
added to the Covid heat map
déjà vu nightmare
Two Hundred and Eighty-First Entry
the click of a fan
in my quarantine room ...
breakthrough cases surge
Two Hundred and Eighty-Second Entry
5 million deaths ...
at the end of the G20 Summit
masked leaders
toss coins over their shoulders
into the Trevi Fountain
Two Hundred and Eighty-Third Entry
the long gaze
of a masked policeman
a black hooded teen
Two Hundred and Eighty-Fourth Entry
variants of concern ...
I dip my immigrant life
in formalin
encase it in this room
of 20-square-meter freedom
Two Hundred and Eighty-Fifth Entry
singing and dancing
around a covid gravesite ...
a circle of women
with their faces covered
in white powder
Two Hundred and Eighty-Sixth Entry
awake alone
this face in the motel mirror ...
prolonged quarantine
Two Hundred and Eighty-Seventh Entry
Journey into the Long Night
winter rain
darkens the soil
covid burial
slate-grey skies
the young widow's sobs
break through her mask
the way home
early nightfall turns
to snow
Two Hundred and Eighty-Eighth Entry
midlife crisis
the therapist's mask
softens his tone
Two Hundred and Eighty-Ninth Entry
one pandemic pet
comes to me after another ...
we are all
inthistogether on the couch
to watch day's end in silence
Two Hundred and Ninetieth Entry
written in response to CNBC's breaking news, Nov. 26: WHO calls special meeting to discuss new Covid variant found in South Africa with "a large number of mutations."
new variant
the worst we've seen so far ...
muting the TV
a shelter cook starts chopping
as early nightfall turns to snow
Two Hundred and Ninety-First Entry
watching my toddler
watching a fly climb the wall ...
prolonged lockdown
Two Hundred and Ninety-Second Entry
Omi
cron
J e s u s
a
v
e
s
Two Hundred and Ninety-Third Entry
my friend claims
omicron, just a scariant
made by Big Pharma ...
between our hearts and minds
this maze of distance
Two Hundred and Ninety-Fourth Entry
face to face
with the Zoom therapist
for fifty minutes
I chitchat, I joke and I smile
with the mask of a stranger
Two Hundred and Ninety-Fifth Entry
alone face to face
with winter night shadows
omicron surge
Two Hundred and Ninety-Sixth Entry
Merry (Omicron) Christmas
a pile of gifts
under the mistletoe
the masked smile
of triple-vaxxed Grandma
Joy to the World ...
Two Hundred and Ninety-Seventh Entry
a sandwich man
at a corner of the mall
singing loudly
the pandemic isn't over
even though you're over it
FYI: A sandwich man is a person who wears a sandwich board. The human billboard is the cheapest and sometimes most effective/personalized walking advertisement.
Two Hundred and Ninety-Eighth Entry
Boxing Day Deals
in the mall a busker singing
jingle jabs, jingle jabs ...
Two Hundred and Ninety-Ninth Entry
Trump's praise of vaccine
booed, booed, booed by MAGA fans ...
omicron surge
Three Hundredth Entry
curbside pickup
of dinner for one
a stray's stare
Three Hundred and First Entry
vaccine shopping
from one pharmacy
to another ...
the schools move online
as parents, Omicron rage
Three Hundred and Second Entry
a polar station
wrapped in snow light
omicron surge
Three Hundred and Third Entry
omicron
surge
snow
on
snow
on
homeless shelter
Three Hundred and Fourth Entry
learning Greek letters ...
another variant emerges
as rain turns to ice
Three Hundred and Fifth Entry
on a power line
the corvid's caw caw cawing ...
omicron winter
Three Hundred and Sixth Entry
murder
upon murder
of corvids
descend in gathering dark ...
the unvaxxed and omicron rage
Three Hundred and Seventh Entry
The Truth North Strong and Free!
a cacophony
of wing flutters and caws
crows in gathering dark
storm clouds roll in
amid lightning strikes
omicron rage
freedom convoy trucks
from coast to coast
new variant emerging
Three Hundred and Eighth Entry
freedom convoy trucks
snake past Parliament Hill
with his mouth open
a white-haired man staring
at truckers with yellow stars
Three Hundred and Ninth Entry
one variant
after another …
the caw-caw-caw
throughout the night
of winter crows
Three Hundred and Tenth Entry
this unvaxxed patient
grasps my hand, mumbling
about death ...
exhausted, I only think
of the patients next door
Three Hundred and Eleventh Entry
social distancing across this endless blue a pair of hang-gliders
Three Hundred and Twelfth Entry
time to learn
to live with Covid-19
on the news ticker ...
a nurse turns off the TV
and starts her midnight rounds
Three Hundred and Thirteenth Entry
subvariants rise ...
in a waiting room chair
ten hours of winter
Three Hundred and Fourteenth Entry
news of variants
outpacing my flight
winter gusts
Three Hundred and Fifteenth Entry
"freedom" truckers
steeped in TrumpTalk
echo slogans --
arms linked, young women chant
make Canada boring again!
Three Hundred and Sixteenth Entry
long Covid
the smoker's voice rasps
everything’s just fine
Three Hundred and Seventeenth Entry
stealth omicron ...
I tune up the volume
of Lennon's imagine
Three Hundred and Eighteenth Entry
shelter in place
I count strays passing
beneath the window
Three Hundred and Nineteenth Entry
a great loss
when only one man dies
of covid
but millions is just a number ...
this twist to my doctor's mouth
NeverEnding Story, March 11, 2022
Three Hundred and Twentieth Entry
does it matter
to mask or not to mask ?
in dim light
Ukrainians crammed
into a bomb shelter
NeverEnding Story, March 11, 2022
Three Hundred and Twenty-First Entry
quarantine room
shifting shadows of me
togetheralone
NeverEnding Story, March 13 2022
Three Hundred and Twenty-Second Entry
St. Patrick's Day
the warmth
of unmasked hellos
Three Hundred and Twenty-Third Entry
my sex drive
on and off in lockdown ...
spotty showers
Three Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Entry
green shoots
on an oak stump ...
lockdown lifted
Three Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Entry
unmasked hellos
and laughter at the mall ...
I click off the news
and doomsurf
with my drunken shadow
Three Hundred and Twenty-Sixth Entry
sticker shock
at the grocery store
deafness
like stealth omicron passing
among unmasked politicians
