Monday, March 23, 2020

“Pandemic Panic”



c. 2020 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(3-20)




For a creative writer, every situation brings cause to put pen to paper. Every challenge moves us to type out lines of prose. To tell stories. To live through a stream-of-consciousness given life in words. So with the Coronavirus loose and among us in North America, I was moved to reflect on the habits of a contact from the bygone Davie Allan Fan Group online. He was a relic of the hippie era, given to wild imagery and free-flowing language that seemed to express a perspective the rest of us could only try to imagine. I learned from his shared messages, frequently wandering trips through the verbal cosmos.

He was known by the unlikely moniker of ‘Boobie.’

While trying to find useful inspiration from the chaos of this virus, I sat at my computer and let this distant muse speak in otherworldly whispers. With encouragement given like kisses from a parent.

The result follows here:

Coronavirus challenge
Waves from Hades
Sinking, submerged, beneath the foam
We are all alone
One and done
Quarantine is no fun
No sports
No nights at the bar
Close the liquor stores
Not here but next door
Lay off the downtown whores
The ones who skim from stock market trades
Satan, not today!
Market index in the tank
We have a virus to thank
My friends are where I am
Drinking warm beer
Eating dinner from a can
Watching reruns of ‘The Sopranos’
Nowhere to go
Everything is closed
Except for the supermarket space
Where hoarders strip the shelves
Buy toilet paper by the case
Pandemic panic
To arms!
Testing not touching
Chloroquine drops
The trading stops
When doctors speculate
That it comes too late
Harlequin hops
Antiseptic mops
Directives from the CDC
Absolution from our sins
A prayer we deploy
A balm for the hoi polloi
Let the press release read
There was much concern
From Illinois
Bulletin: Maintain your distance!
Six feet, if you please
Keep away, you from me
Fear and frenzy
A yowl of injured souls
Goes loudly toward the sky
Be careful friends
Wash your hands
Do not die
Bulletin: Stay at home!
Be together, alone!
SARS CoV-2
For me and you
Let the invisible invader find no comfort
No transport
Being carried on your flesh
Society is a mess
Jamming groceries in their carts
Standing 72 inches apart
Art Bell is on the air
An undead voice from beyond
East of the Rockies
West of the Rockies
On your BayGen, Freeplay radio
Caller, you may go
Say a prayer for the sick
Coughing up the debris
Of excess
We have met the enemy
They are we
Written like a movie script
With the hero in a pit
Thrashing, gnashing teeth
But with redemption, complete
Mere pages away
It lifts the spirit, they say
This epic fight
To go boldly
Into the good night
COVID-19
The perpetual data-stream
Plugged in
Connected
From damnation, protected
Ritual washing of hands
A cleansing act
For every man
Whole wheat, sourdough and challah
Jesus, Buddah and Allah
Old habits die hard
With us marching in the yard
Masks in place
Pleading silently for heavenly grace
For deliverance from the beast
Which we have released
A name on the Lysol can
Conspiracy
Theories written in all caps
Keyboard taps
Wild in the head
Choosing nonsense instead
Cult of personality
Oaths taken
From Ashtabula to Interlaken
We have put down the seed
Which brought us, humbled, to this crisis of need
Boldness, arrogance
Waving banners
For media moguls
And social planners
For movers and shakers
And birthday cake bakers
Priests
Poets
Pundits
Prophets
Poppycock-pushers
Pressure
Pills
Pandemic yield
Bodies in the field
A generation marked
Tattooed in the dark
We won’t soon forget
That God put us to the test
We the loud children
Wailing at the gates
Like outcast beggars who came to the throne
A moment too late
Dressed in rags
With dirty feet
Suddenly gone silent
Time to pay the rent
Amen

I reckon that our friend Boobie must be busy with his own lyrical analysis of the Coronavirus. For reporters of news around the globe, it has represented a ‘call to arms’ unseen since the Second World War. But for us of a more creative bent, it has opened a portal to self-care and awareness that is undeniably useful in helping to preserve the human spirit inside ourselves.

Comments about ‘Words on the Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Write us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024

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