Corona Chronicle

  • Corona Chronicle,  Cross-Genre,  Poetry

    “Social Distances” by L.B. Browne

    April 24, 2020 /
    There is a man
    wearing dark glasses
    and a blue paper surgical mask
    in the fluorescent sun of the grocery store.
    Hey buddy, 6 feet!
    a young woman shouts
    as he backs up, nearly touches her,
    outrageous,
    she does not see
    the white cane he slides in small arcs at his feet,
    tip tapping the way

    down ravaged empty aisles.

    There is a woman
    with a 3-day-old cough
    and a nasal drip that runs down the back of her throat,
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  • Corona Chronicle,  Poetry

    “Quarantine” by Rimas Uzgiris

    April 19, 2020 /
    By day we count like clocks the dust motes
    And wait for the hour of maximum sun
    When the forest folds us in

    Like the first morning, Eve yet to meet a snake.

    The passage back is through the cemetery
    Haunted by the occasional human
    Shuffling from grave to grave,

    Pottering with plants and sloughed pine.

    We park ourselves before electric iridescence
    Trying to feel our way towards a future:
    Seeing only fear and desire and no Eightfold Path,
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  • Corona Chronicle,  Poetry

    Two Limericks by Raquel Melody Guarino

    April 12, 2020 /

    Pot o’ Gold

    America’s in a recession
    With closures in every profession
    The nurses all cry
    As more people die
    With 12-hundred bucks in possession

    Oh Jesus

    The virus is getting quite bad
    But the president thinks it’s a fad
    As the numbers still lurch
    “I’ll see you in church!”

    Says Don, a positive lad

    *
    Raquel Melody Guarino is an aspiring expat who just left Italy due to the pandemic.
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  • Corona Chronicle,  Poetry

    “The Air” by Anthony Mirarcki

    April 10, 2020 /
    There are methods of
    coping, optimism in the

    face of uncertainty, hope.

    Change can be a
    good thing, a chance
    to reflect. But questions

    infect my outlook—

    How fast can life change?
    What will happen next?

    Where do I go from here?

    The answers to these
    interrogatives, like

    their cause, remain in the air.

    Maybe time can heal
    all wounds, or maybe time

    is up.

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  • Corona Chronicle,  Cross-Genre

    “The Optimist” by Raquel Melody Guarino

    April 7, 2020 /
    I packed my bag up
    stuffed it full
    Seams bursting
    as I
    try
    to pull
    zip
    and push
    down the pile
    to make it easier to

    carry

    it doesn’t matter what you put
    as long as you can bear it

    without their help

    you may limp or even trip
    but you brought those bags

    you brought them for a reason

    you will pull those bags up the stairs

    one by one.

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