From a Diary of the Plague Year (5)

Someone said to someone
as they walked by at the appropriate
pandemical remove, "Why
isn't the inactivity more uncontrived?"

The other person replied, "Is that
really what it said?"

As I was already uncontagiously
past them, I had to make up answers:
"Because we're dealing with actors" and
"No, but that's what she said it said."

Anti-social distancing is turning my life
into a French experimental film
from 1977. I'm grateful.


hans ostrom 2020

From a Diary of the Plague Year (1)

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