My car sits idle in the driveway of my parents’ house, spring pollen coating it undisturbed. I have not left for more than a bike ride since March ground to a halt, and I’m one of the lucky ones. Lucky that I’m not required to risk my life at work. Lucky that losing my part-time job doesn’t land me on the streets, since my parents can support me temporarily. Strangely, lucky that an injury ended my short career as a touring performer months ago, so that I’d already retreated home to regroup before this crisis began. Lucky that no one I know personally has yet caught the virus.

Continue Reading South of the Border

The school, emptied
goes silently blind, each window dark
under clouds, an unseeing eye
chilled grey

in the yard, hard brown bricks
hold fast
to the bolts
of a basketball hoop

no bells ring, no children cascade
out the doors, noisy, half-fledged
running to fly, flapping
boots coats hats mitts

Continue Reading Unschooled: Guelph, Ontario, March 23 2020

Nightmares 3 nights in a row
Nowhere I can go
Will temptation overcome
Self-isolation
God is with me
But is it God’s timing
A personal 9/11
Has become public

Continue Reading Bittersweet Lament

Since February 2019, when I was diagnosed with a strange cancer, visible on CT, PET, and all the other alphabetized scans—but not making me outwardly ill—I have become used to staying at home, more and more. I go out for treatments at the hospital, which leave me fatigued and with a suppressed immune system, so I spend time at home, napping and having hot baths. When I have enough energy, I go out to meet friends, see a show at a museum, attend a play, read a few poems at a reading, have dinner at a restaurant with my partner. Even routine things like shopping, going to the bank, the library, the hardware store are restorative—for a while, I can feel normal in a normal, functioning world. Then fatigue, or fear, overtakes me. Sometimes, I wonder how the world can continue normally while I am ill, straying closer to the brink of death.

Continue Reading From One to Many

1. “Don’t touch my face, don’t touch my face.” Repeating the mantra when the wind blows my hair in my eyes.

2. When I hear the front door open, “Strip, take off your clothes. Wash your hands.”

3. “OMG, I’d hate to be on that cruise!” On hearing about the Grand Princess passengers.

4. “Ah, this is so sweet of you. You brought me a gift that’s better than flowers,” I say, handling the 60-roll toilet paper package.

Continue Reading Things I Never Thought I’d Say (Except in a Pandemic)