Already forgotten bell curves
overcome by spikes and pikes
carrying virus loads
up the nose.
No more waves
of predictability
nor general systems theories
of how things go.
if there are rules of pandemic,
they are rules lost in the mystery,
lost to a history
passed by and past off
by those who scoff
their vulnerability.
Roller coaster rides and pandemics
take away my breath.
Sudden falls after steep climbs
drop my stomach to my toes.
Harsh and sudden turns of phrase
bring fear of death
around each unexpected curve.
One does not mind a five minute ride,
hands held high on final descent;
with a grudging stop and final flop.
The ride softly ends as riders depart.
Unsteady feet steady once more
ready to explore the carousel, and bumper cars,
cotton candy and games of chance.
A three year ride is way too scary
and leaves us wary
of how, if at all, it will end.
With a bang or a whimper?
Or, a sullen long simmer, fall after fall
along rails beginning to wear ?
The ride must continue until all are loaded
with a vaccination, or two, or three;
maybe, more even than four.
The tickets were free,
but too many refused to take a shot
at ending the ride on time.
More climbs, more falls, more curves
until we are all sick to death or dying.
