Hard to remember what I’m trying to do.
I’m documenting my time (who isn’t?),
trying not to come down with the covid flu.
I don’t really know how to do that, do you?
When you're quarantining in your hazmat suit,
it's hard to remember, so I'll ask you:
have I succeeded in mentioning all we’re going through—
worse than the last chapter of Ulysses?
So far, I’ve succeeded in avoiding the covid flu
alright. The covid flu would knock me for a loop—
I might not manage to be a happy peasant
ever again. I’d forget what I was trying to do—
namely, cut some rugs and have fun with whom-
ever is brightly present yet so distant
as not to catch or carry the covid flu.
In a strange way, covid keeps me on cue,
as distance somehow keeps me in touch with you,
helping remember what we were trying to do—
in the face of the covid flu.
