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In the Time of Virus

Series of poems exchanged between poets via e-mail

Imaginary Dolphins of Venice The wishful thinking of dolphins swimming in the canals of Venice lousy panacea, beautiful hallucination not to mention serendipitous swans, the color of no more war. Social distancing is six feet to a thousand miles depending on the color of your eyes. This light breeze- spiked chime sounds either resigned or aloof, I can’t tell which, and the thrashers emote as though nothing is as communicable as music. The space between myself and everyone else advances with age and I’m aging by the speed of sound. This morning there was chicken sausage sizzling and scrambled eggs, scents filled the kitchen. Empire is now sharing a cup of coffee with the rest of humanity. I don’t even know their names! Empire is her holding me like I was the last hermitage on earth. Our berserk dogs need their Sunday hike, bereft of parishioners and sometimes I don’t think the desert will summer us out of this any more than dolphins will carry our grey ashes out to sea. ###

- John Macker

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