Life Support in a Viral Age

It isn’t easy to live anymore.
This cancer’s grown so that it’s hard to walk
unwisely. Mom and Pop’s grocery store
serves as limit of my travels. I talk
to walls because my peers are ill at ease.
I’m quartered now, restricted to a chair,
since made aware that crucial arteries
have been occluded or in disrepair.
I scarcely see life in the district where
I live, and hear still less its throbbing beat,
who once heard children laughing without care
in games they played. My heart’s a lonely street
where I mark time. And daylight’s hazed with dread,
while I keep watch at pastimes that are dead.

Frank De Canio was born and bred in New Jersey, and worked in New York for many years. He's been published in Danger, Pleiades, Genie, Write On!, Red Owl, Blue Unicorn, Ship of Fools, and Dissident Voice among others, He loves music from Bach to Amy Winehouse. Shakespeare is his consolation, writing his hobby. As poets, he likes Dylan Thomas, Allen Ginsberg, and Sylvia Plath. He also attends a Café Philo every other week in Lower Manhattan. Read other articles by Frank.