the bear and the cockatoo (and things that remain)

These fragments I have shored against my ruins

~

what have I kept
of myself
. . .

the plague
rages
all around
and
I have not been
touched . . .

no

that is not true

I too
have become more

paranoid

morbid

depressed

hopeless

resigned

resolved

vaccinated

everything
but the lurgy
itself

the world –
my world –
has changed
in these last years
and
I wonder
what
is left
of the old me

the me
who used to avoid flu shots
because he didn’t like
injections

the me
who believed that attending work
on a shift
by shift
basis
was the righteous purpose
in his life

the character
who used to park
himself
upstairs
in the bakery
with a laptop
for a spot of book-formatting
and a coffee

in the company
of merchandise
teddy bears
for light conversation

perhaps
some
of this
has remained

the teddy bear heart
cannot
be excised
from the person
that I am . . .

not truly excised

while everything
is different
still
it remains the same

and the new
is just a state of mind
to adjust to

adapt to

we will all –
with luck –
adapt

there is
a cockatoo
that I should write
cavorting brazenly
on my new-mown lawn

excuse me
while I get
my pen
and some paper

~

9 thoughts on “the bear and the cockatoo (and things that remain)

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