Corona Gone

The sun fell down,
And broke its crown,
The dollars came tumbling after.
Sneezles and dweebles
Racked up all the peoples,
Drowned out in all the laughter.
Maybe you ought take a pill
And go for a finer thrill;
Tomorrow may never come.
Tis a long way home
Where you’re far from Rome;
Make sure your pickle is dill.
He’s got all the ventilators
Certified by prime aggregators;
Are you sure his lapel mic’s on?
Forget Southern Nights,
Time for Last Rites,
She’s gonna be corona gone.
How do you give someone a hug
Keeping six feet apart on a rug?
May I ask: are you a believer?
Tell everyone I love them so,
And I will miss them when I go—
This morning I got up with a fever…

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Where Are My Stars?

Where are my stars?
Why hath my comforting night lights left me
To blacked out windows in this small room
With not even full curtains to reel with the spring breezes;
Blinds keep the outside away and reflect my aloneness.
Leaded words with dissonant chording try, but fail
To stir thoughts of brighter days and warming evenings.
Dark thoughts, cachectic dreams attend me now.
Do not come this way: the path is unsure, and the end obscured.
The roof needs repair?
The steps brittly break and the animals snort their disdain.
Mothers hurry their kinder swiftly past the door.
In this late-March cold winds sink and lank rains linger.
Sore joints and crookt fingers lift but cannot reach.
Dark thoughts, cachectic dreams attend me now.
Do not come this way: the path is unsure, and the end obscured.
The tree killers have done their deed.
The cable lines are now safe to carry each and every thirty-minute fat show
With prospering inanities, but you can do better; if I may have a word—
Dark thoughts, cachectic dreams attend me now.
Do not come this way: the path is unsure, and the end obscured.