Poem-demic

Been in a spiral

since virus went viral

–my livelihood taken away–

my stress relief gym sesh’

too close to strange flesh,

–no movies

–no concerts

–no plays

if you paired up

before plague

–with or without ague–

you’re probably panicking less,

since 6-feet is same breadth,

as depth for you in death,

a distance unsocial

(at best)

To touch is the touchstone,

in tandem w pher’mone

2 ends of a yardstick collapsing,

now neither can make it

beyond zones of safety

–no kiss blown

–lest unknown

–starts gasping.

I wonder what measures,

we’ll turn to when pressure

to flatten the curve tapers off,

if full-body condoms

and masks will solve problem,

of airborne, and there borne

or not.

if dating on dot coms

will stay there–not go on

to meeting in person at last,

since droplets don’t travel

through sites, threads, or channels

but certainly make it

through masks.