They’ve locked us down. 

Though my hurting joints had me 

Homebound for some time, 

This illness that now crowns the world, 

Empties shopping malls, and grounds 

Tourists just about locks us all up 

By decree—rich, poor, complainer, 

Or idolater of inept presidents. 

My words are no match for its fever 

Or sneeze, nor for the fumbling, 

Floundering generality of ungrammatical 

Edicts, my plaints inadequate against

The doublespeak or bumbling speech

Of lawyers, thieves, profiteers,

Deniers of common sense or science. 

Locked down. Locked up. Dumbed 

Down or stupefied, exiled from streets,

Handcuffed to the news and Netflix, 

Might as well, for now, shut up.

 

 

Marne Kilates

15 March 2020