HPN

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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 20

The Blight That United Us

With the legs of a thief, the plague came,
     And victims from the living spectrum
     Fell into a feverish vacuum
     Rivaling the fires of a crematorium
     As the strangling pain of suffocation
     Wrung their lungs.
With the legs of a thief, the plague came
     Giving us the obsession
     Howard Hughes knew
     By stealing our option to go ungloved,
     By stealing our partiality to be unmasked,
     By imprisoning us in paranoia
     Behind physical and emotional bars.
With the legs of a thief, the plague came.
     For that time, there were pleas to something divine.
     Every sphere of the atmosphere could hear
     Petitions for salvation.
With the legs of a thief, the plague came.
     Nonetheless, many blest the first responders
     And hospital workers
     Stationed in adversity-drenched trenches
     Who provided the tests and medicine
     When certain politicians only shared a lot of wind
     From their chins.
With the legs of a thief, the plague came,
     And people spoke of the pandemic in the past tense,
     Waiting for a time hence
     Where there is no scourge,
     And fewer viral lives will emerge.




Bob McNeil