RESPONSE TO HOW LUCKY ONES LIVE DURING A PANDEMIC
I have almost the same routine. I wake up at 6:45.
My cat bells as I stretch. Reminds me who's
captain. Whose breakfast comes first.
He is unaware that I fast. Or that I love you, little train
wreck passes through surgical mask, before
rounding his perked white ears.
I get to work. Sip coffee. Check emails. Listen to the halls
thrum hormonally. Maybe I teach first period.
Maybe I don't.
I live in Taiwan, but I'm American. No lockdown. Store shelves
plentiful. One of several outliers safe from the madness.
I contemplate humanity.
The blue-collar fishbowl I grew up in. I have no desire for Netflix
or sourdough. I yearn for exactly this. Now tell me.
Who wouldn’t.
Who wouldn’t consider tossing a name tag, issued by a coterie
of suit ties, that never intended on reading it
to begin with?
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