Patience Zero

first whiff of quarantine fatigue

1 min read

I can no longer pasteurize every purchase,
each utterance, all the sufferance of this
frothy Spring.

We can witness a real time terrorist camp take down
but have no room in the situation room to panorama
an evolving pandemic

That bug was not a feature?

And this ain’t poesy; best a pissed off prose poem.

NaPoWriMo April 2020

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.


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