Pandemic Poem #48 / New Shit

I’d hoped that I might get to 50 pandemic poems in 2020. It feels like a nice place to stop. This second to last poem is one for the poets. As restrictions have eased and there are in-person events to get to. I’m finding the new language of the online poetry spaces is bleeding into the real world and it’s kind of awkward.

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Pandemic Poem #47 / On The Easing Of Restrictions

It’s been a welcome relief not to wear a mask in the increasingly hot weather, however I can’t help but be governed by my brain. My brain, like all of ours, which has been responding to collective trauma for a while now, finds it hard to think long term. And the fear we had instilled upon us doesn’t simply dissipate with the announcement of easing of restrictions.

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