It feels like an act of daring to go ahead
and live what would have been a normal life two years ago,
To take the risk of walking out the front door,
knowing you could hit a deer or get hit by a car yourself
or catch a bad cold or otherwise encounter, at last,
Whatever it is you’re going to die of.
All this second-guessing of what to say
And what to do, instead of living.
I want to live.
I want to enjoy the time that’s left.
So many people can’t stand for people to live
And love and be free and go in peace.
A weirdness has settled over the world.
Perhaps the real virus is a disease
That makes people half-cocked,
And the absurd and the outrageous have seized power.
Except the outrage is often over nothing at all
and people spend their days searching
for the next pariah, who happens to be
the next person to stand up and say,
“This is all nuts,”
and even I can’t tell anymore if I’m making sense
or if I’m the one who’s nuts —
except the insane person is the last person
to recognize his insanity — which is why
so many people finally see the emperor has no clothes.
Run on, sentences, run on —
you’re old enough to know better,
so run on, sentences, run like the wind.