Antiviral Angel
We Are All Wuhan
Distancing
21st Century Plague Doctor
Coronavirus Cargo Cult
What burnt offerings, totems, armloads
of flowers shall we leave at the edge
of town to ward off the invisible
invader? With what sharp incense
of herbs and spices shall we perfume
the air, decontaminate? What vessels
of cleansing concoctions must stand
guard on the lip of every sink,
at the verge of every door? What hymns
must we sing as we perform
our ritual ablutions? What gloves,
masks, face shields, gowns of office
will suffice to scare off the foul
miasmas and evil spirits? What
hand signs, sigils, and talismans
will guarantee safe passage through
the corridors of commerce? What
ceremonies must be performed
before reentering the village,
approaching the hearth? Must we forever
stay indoors, applaud out of windows
thrust open at seven in the evening,
to praise the performance of healers
and tradesmen and warriors? Refrain
from humble exchanges of touch,
speak with stopped mouths, no longer
conspire to share a common air?
How long must we live at two arms’
lengths, refrain from assembling,
confine our protests to silent dispatches
into the imagined traffic of pulses
of photons? When will we know
that the magic has worked, that the gods
have come down where we placed
our offerings, and are proceeding
to purify, sterilize, wipe it all clean?
What burnt offerings, totems, armloads
of flowers shall we leave at the edge
of town to ward off the invisible
invader? With what sharp incense
of herbs and spices shall we perfume
the air, decontaminate? What vessels
of cleansing concoctions must stand
guard on the lip of every sink,
at the verge of every door? What hymns
must we sing as we perform
our ritual ablutions? What gloves,
masks, face shields, gowns of office
will suffice to scare off the foul
miasmas and evil spirits? What
hand signs, sigils, and talismans
will guarantee safe passage through
the corridors of commerce? What
ceremonies must be performed
before reentering the village,
approaching the hearth? Must we forever
stay indoors, applaud out of windows
thrust open at seven in the evening,
to praise the performance of healers
and tradesmen and warriors? Refrain
from humble exchanges of touch,
speak with stopped mouths, no longer
conspire to share a common air?
How long must we live at two arms’
lengths, refrain from assembling,
confine our protests to silent dispatches
into the imagined traffic of pulses
of photons? When will we know
that the magic has worked, that the gods
have come down where we placed
our offerings, and are proceeding
to purify, sterilize, wipe it all clean?
Grand Reopening
Biohazard Notice
Herd Immunity
Some Day
Get Your Mask On
The New Curriculum
I Miss Faces
The Garden of Privilege