The Shield of Achilles (aka just us)

I stare wall-eyed.

A man stoops on the sidewalk outside our corner liquor store. Spare change? “Sorry.” (my standard answer)

CNBC squawks on about moral hazard. Dodges income inequality.

Virus pricing. Wally & I walk away with two-twenty dollar bottles of liquid protection. The uneven-ness of it all not lost on (us).

Tee

Home.Made.Mask.

Cut t-shirt. Bombay blue. Folded into length long enough to cover face. See CDC. Short enough to fold below ears. Rubber band is glue shielding me from calamity. Cut another one. Black. Calvin Klein repurposed. Underarm pocket cut free. No need for extra material holding inhales & exhales clotted with fog.

Body Snatchers

Invasion (of). Body snatchers. An elderly woman. Large trash bag wrapped around her head shopping. Is she breathing? Corona tessellation six apart. Common sense. We’re waiting for it to reappear. April fools, twenty twenty.

Vulnerable

Marie Laveau

I am neither creole nor a juju practitioner. But I keep a laminated prayer binder-clipped to my notes.

“benevolent Marie Laveau, who draws her strength from the Loas, i trust in your protecting love & strengthening power. in your kindness, give me the fortitude to confront the misfortunes i meet & the strength to overcome my weaknesses.”

What if my misfortune is a virus floating in an air pocket, waiting to hijack me home walking the dog? What if my weakness is a strength, my immune system raging in a cytokine storm fighting to keep me alive unwittingly taking the whole of me down instead? SOS immune system distress. What if I don’t make it back?