True, a horrific catastrophe for millions,
but, for myself, the pandemic
was not so bad, not so bad, actually pretty good.
First of all, I was cleaner than I’ve ever been.
I washed my hands each time I sneezed,
covered all exposed flesh with Purell,
changed clothes each time I came home,
stayed away from my eyes, nose, and lips.
And my surroundings, so clean too.
I de-sanitized the doorknobs at noon and at night,
scoured all the fruits and vegetables,
never shared spoons or straws with loved ones,
wore my surgical mask when walking the dog.
So many new prohibitions,
very stimulating for a rule-lover like me.
Then, of course, the demise of the public sphere.
The gym closed down, no more painful workouts.
The theater, the symphony, the shopping malls.
They even cancelled my high school reunion.
No more movies, no restaurants, no trips anywhere.
Life became much simpler.
I enjoyed my new existence,
locked away in my cozy little house,
like a faraway Tahitian island,
so peaceful, so quiet, such solitude.
My hearing miraculously improved (no talk).
My social anxiety disappeared (no people).
I did finally come down with Covid.
It took the bug two years to find me.
I can’t imagine where I slipped up.
mild case, not much to it.
Now, they say, the pandemic is over.
Have they given any thought to we
who were doing so well with social isolation?
I rather doubt it.
I just cling to my fond memories.
