The Other Virus

We westerners of this complex age, monks in our body’s cells…
— T.E. Lawrence, “The Seven Pillars of Wisdom,” (1952) p. 521

You become what cuts you off
From the center of our world,
Stand aloof to its thoughts and
Noises as your eyes open to the
Darkness enveloping its glitz.
They see through the plastic
Wrapped around the bodies, the
Cold meat left over from the virus’s
Feast, when suddenly you turn
Cold, breathe slowly in and out,
Now permanently out of reach
Of any “new normal” prison,
Feeling the distance now within,
Understanding that nobody can
Go home.

George Salamon lives in St. Louis, MO and most recently has contributed to The New Verse News, One Sentence Poems, The Asses of Parnassus and Dissident Voice. Read other articles by George.