Life of Covid

Spontaneously written in one sitting on June 30.  I had been reciting Yeats a lot to myself, mainly “Sailing to Byzantium” and “The Second Coming.”  The reader may note a slight poetic license with line 14. 

As bad as it is
For me, it’s only
Too much for you
& so I keep my mouth
Shut really, about all that
& stay mostly to myself
Not to spread it.  One or
Two friends is enough,
With antibodies. It only
Depresses me in others
Who may lack my resources
Of people they love,
A mutation against suicide,
The genius IQ, truly
I am blessed to reconstruct
The contexts of its horrors
Over & over
And somewhat keep control:
An expedient murder here & there…
A concentration camp at the right time…
That leaves me normal
In solitudes of pain
Marching forth.

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