Covidica Poem

The world is shut down
closed for business
Beauty is on lockdown
shackled by chains of yellow caution tape
Yet she stands tall, defiant
oblivious to the death surrounding her
It makes no sense this silent killer
this thief of touch
of life
Compliant with rules
we march on like lemmings
in six time
keeping our distance we stumble masked
through quarantined spaces
draped in a cape of mind numbing news
groping for reasons
only to witness endless reports of

Vietnam style death counts

only to witness endless reports of Vietnam style death counts
from hair product waxed reporters

Every cell cries out
SHUT THE FUCK UP
as creativity seeks a new voice
responding to the ache for a revelation
to be free of this mangled mess
of twisted truths, of confusion
of illusion , of crippling fear
Yet certainly
there is
an invitation
or a dare
of a glimpse
of something more
and if we squint
passed the fog
of imprisoned dreams
perhaps we can see
perhaps there is clarity
of a profound truth
and we can have hope
in what awaits there

 © 2019 Victor Atkins.