April is viral in more senses than one.
An invisible droplet murderer is plopped
in the backseat.
This murderer knows neither religion
nor creed, neither age nor wealth.
Every morning the news runs circles
on the Tv; the locked-up doors,
the gated stores, the lonely streets,
the race for hospital beds, the unified silence.
The toll soars like a bed set free:
50, 200, 1000...
the days sink into each other --
books, dishes, pillows, the clogged
streets of the internet.
It is the dead heat of April
and the silence is deafening.
