For the moment plague
appears to us here in headlines,
broadcasts, and rumor. I wonder
if it will visit my lungs soon.
And kill me. My worry spreads
to family, friends, refugees,
homeless ones. By the time
it reaches my minuscule sense
of everyone it dissipates.
For the moment plague
turns gel into a verb and makes me
rub my hands together a lot
like a fly.
For the moment plague's pall
is subtle. Everyone looks
distracted as if they're doing math
problems in their head. Stock
markets stop pretending they're
rational systems. The grotesque
President of the moment
babbles in the high fever
of his stupidity. Crisis crawls
for the moment. It will
get up and start to walk,
to jog, . . . .
hans ostrom March 9 2020
