This is the apocalypse
A daffodil has poked its head up
from the dirt and opened
sunny arms to bluer skies
yet I am filled with
dark and anxious dread
as theaters close as travel ends and
grocery stores display their empty rows
where toilet paper liquid bleach
and bags of flour stood in upright ranks. Continue reading
Stay home, they say and I do.
Don’t stress out, they say and I try.
We are in it together, they say
and I know they are lying. Continue reading
Brother Richard Hendrick, a Capuchin Franciscan living in Ireland, has written a touching poem about our uncertain times living with the coronavirus.
Yes there is fear.
Yes there is isolation.
Yes there is panic buying.
Yes there is sickness.
Yes there is even death. Continue reading
It’s way too late already. I just got up, slept in a bit, like I normally do on Sundays, yet it’s later than usual. Another spring-forward time change, which I believe somebody made up just to annoy me. Continue reading
I guess you think you know this story.
You don’t. The real one’s much more gory.
The phony one, the one you know,
Was cooked up years and years ago,
And made to sound all soft and sappy
just to keep the children happy.
I’m not happy. I feel a genuine sense of heartbreak every single day. A lot of it has to do with me being hyper-observant and somewhat intelligent. Not meaning to toot my own horn, but there’s a threshold, I believe, where too much knowledge, too much awareness, too much understanding makes it literally impossible to attain a state of happiness. Continue reading
