Innocuous cough, like light to cockroaches,
streets now empty.
Distant church bells and chimes echo 
like they did over a hundred years ago
when wilderness paved this road.
As quiet then,
as now. 

​

Gods and Goddesses
anointed by the herd
will emerge from hiding without their masks
And then the herd will see
They are the same as you and me.

​

St. Patrick’s Day parade of one lonely Guinness drinking leprechaun who later drinks alone at the bar,
trying to socialize from afar.
Initially assuaged by funny distracting memes of quarantines 
Now, a boiling reality
As the grind intensifies
Claustrophobic pressure threatens sanity of families.
Rainbows are a temporary reprieve
Spring breeze morphs into Demogorgon winter howl                                   
Snowflakes melt on the tongue of opportunistic youth who found a smile in the midst of it all
It is now May 9, could be February 9 by the feel of it
seasons,
like everything else,
paused…indefinitely.
Glimpses, flashes, teases of warm light ahead…violently swept away by cold wind and rain.
Rainbow tumbleweed, like an old western ghost town scene, lands beside abandoned plane ticket, in a gully next to me…