In the Neighborhood

Leaves of rust dot an aggressive sky

The blacktop and yellow lines that divide us…are covered with dew

Such as a, cold sweat from a fever that will not break

Friends to the right teaching from a treacherous dream

Tired and worn neighbors to the left…correspond to the dead

Across the great dissect…acquaintances no longer fed

With watchful eye, I sit on a weathered deck pondering…’where has my neighborhood gone?’

A mortgaged life singing her swan song

Original sin and I…obeying the wrong

Typhoid Mary, Now and Then

Have Karen’s and Ken’s been around long?

Well, yes, Karen’s have been around for centuries!

I understand that some in America do not think of history as important. After all… 2020 has become far more advanced than 100 years ago.

Did you say, asymptomatic? Is this new? Ignoring science? That never happens! Immigrant’s, person’s of color: black, brown, red… do matter. Oh wait! What about gay men being housed on an island (just a rumored suggestion!)

These, poor me, dramatically-soap opera, Karen, Ken, Brad and their reluctance to not use history as a, tool for the future, have lingered around in the bias shadows…since…ignorance has been a word.

This article is more than 3 months old
Fear, bigotry and misinformation – this reminds me of the 1980s Aids pandemic
This article is more than 3 months old
Edmund White
s http://This article is more than 3 months old Fear, bigotry and misinformation – this reminds me of the 1980s Aids pandemic This article is more than 3 months old Edmund White I saw the damage Aids did to the gay community, and I live with it myself. Now, at 80, I worry I won’t survive coronavirus

Oh! I forgot! Lest we forget what we did/do to those with mental health issues!

Social Alienation/Goya

the Queer and the Fine

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These times are lean

for many.

Not for only the queer and fine.

Not for only those of disabled mind.

For all human and…unkind.

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Cannot help but feel a chill in the air.

Cannot help but wonder…

the depth of waters,

free flow.

The river’s edge no longer inviting.

Vacant tables seem

splintered.

Less confiding.

Brighter times misguiding.

The size of things and secret matters left to a court jester and mad hatter.

To fend distant thought,

I watch in admiration,

as my dogs frolic.

Their antics blissfully unaware of the impending need to panic.

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