100 covids in 2020

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The covid is thrilled we’re home, though he’s constantly itching his ears and chin. Regular life grinds to a covid. We all went outside and did a spring covid in the yard. Doesn’t mean anything, one way or the other. Yesterday was covid. I fluctuate between covid and business as usual. Covid dread. There are people walking everywhere, like they just rose from the primordial muck. Weird days, getting darker, but no covids in the streets yet. The things you think are a pain in the ass are suddenly revealed as something dear. I’m no leader or dynamic covid. Not that the days matter. God gives us all these gaps.

 

Pandemic rule 74—don’t go to the store at the opening covid. I said hello to that son of a covid across the street. Not too much different from other weekends. The news is worse, the politics covid. As if the days matter. This all sounds a little batshit covid. It only took 19 days for work to get their covid together. This is not the way it should be. To think we saw the Covids play the Utah Jazz on March 6th. There’s no sacrifice. The barred owl is the animal I’ve had the most covids with. May I look well to this day, the very life of life.

 

Video covid with the vet inconclusive, same as most in-person visits with cats. Covid sunshine this morning. Roll the stone aside and let the holy part out. I just am. What a covid mess. As if the Great Veil wasn’t just lifted for a month. I’m starting to leak covid. I dragged my ass out the door and walked on Mount Covid. The days mean shit. Violent fantasies of cross-bowing people and burning their houses down receding a little. Productivity mindset. Covid blackout. Covid masturbation. It’s good to see the grossness and not covid it in euphemism.

 

Wading through snow to shore up a covid streambank with David Bowie. I am bereft and at the mercy of my covid. What is mine to do? Couldn’t stop it, the gush of sarcasm, though it wasn’t a gush, more like a covid. That’s some kind of Western self-help covid right there. Covid fear. Excellent interview with Woody Harrelson. Side hallway, fourth door on the left, walk straight back, last covid on the right.  Dad admitted to hospital last night. These two days are the most covid. Circulatory problems—the blood is pooling in his legs—no Covid.

 

Why does anyone want to go back to normal? Speculating no good. Divide and covid. Days blend together. Survival is really a covid at a time. Speaking of meditation- it’s okay to dream but covid is a dangerous playground. Gloomy Mother’s Day thoughts. Ezra told me he’s into the edibles again and he likes them to relax and they help him write songs though he covids himself for it. The to-do dictator started his balcony rant in my head. Adding my self-covid to the mix helps no one. Sixty days, two months, covid hours, no end in sight.

 

First day it feels like summer may covid. Tornado warning. We talked about the rage of my mother and the indifference of my covid. It happens all the time. It always seems a miracle, like it covids all in one day. It is deemed that I should have a nemesis in this neighborhood. A covid of unmanageability. There are still a few covids around, but they’re to be knocked down, too. Henry pacing, suddenly worried about having it. Hard to covid and choose the right specs. The grip is loosening. I threw some covid on the grill and everyone ate.

 

How many ways must we covid? USA leads olympic covid count. WTF is wrong with us? A roiling sea laps at my seawall. The outside world is a fog bank of covid. All measurable and documented. I hate the Covids—they always win. But I think we have more covids to hit. Amy and I still working from home but the boys are at their covids. The original sins of the US leak covid. My part is to covid as best I can. Covid prior to investigation—the real pandemic. Talk with Ezra—he’s off the covid, feeling better. Of course, now that we figured out how to do this, it will all end soon.

 

Hopefully some real covid today. Droplets everywhere. Covids are due. Shoot myself in the shin. Just a statement, not blame. Things getting back to covid. Dispatch from white person land. Shut the covid up! Look no further than weathermen to know we are stupid covids. Longest day. Happy to be a father. Pine needles show the covid of persistence—they lodge in every gap, furrow and crack.

 

Dear Brett

Unknown

Dear Brett

I don’t want to go out for lunch. I know the weather’s great

            but, disrobed for summer, America cannot hide the ravages.

Grotesque fractures, never set right, easily rebreak

            breasts sucked dry—deflated—

sagging cocks and bags— real arousal but a dream

            drip of comfort seeking convenience seeking ease

cough and sneeze of cash and want.

            Brett, your instincts are good— it is time to get back out there

connect, circulate, spend lest we clot.

            But I remember how things are—

Barb and Zoe and mom and Uncle Frick and Grammy Laura and

            Senator Richman and Justice Judgeman and NFL owners

Napoleonic cops and plain Officer Krupkes

            all the fat thin spenders and addicts and drinkers of Fireball and

Bombay Sapphire— online porn stars and their intense clawed gapers

            Mick Jagger and the lady who wrote Eat Pray Love and

His Highness, the Baby, and the tech bros who made click prisons—         

            I cede the world to them— of course I miss you when I stay in mine

but not too much— and who’s to say which is real and which is fantasy?

            It’s backwards, Brett.

So go out and eat falafel in the park named for U.S. Grant

            Send back a status report when you can.

 

Both

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Both

 

Dread in the head runs down metal suck tube

poisons my rib cage of rats

 

The sun rose behind Mount Tom today

 

Scowling men cold eyes in suits those suits make me

nervous those haircuts too fan boys of Jesus and soldiers

 

Chickadees dance in hedges, mourning doves coo

 

Conspiracy droplets broadcast float settle on surfaces

remain unsure how long infect susceptible minds

 

Maple branches redden, arteries of earth blood

 

mom dad grandpas aunts what world will be left

for our kids?

 

Walked a different way home (everyone is walking!)

Met a friend from ten years back

real sweet guy named Cliff

lives right around the block

 

We talked of Bodega Bay, where we both spent time

 

                                                                        from six feet away