as Covid embezzles breath
from my stockpile
I’m locked down
on a sofa inhaling
a trickle of words
with the occasional
sneeze of slimy lyrics
which my pen
like an old man’s cane
pushes around and points
at the ones to pickup
and wipe onto the page
okay so it’s not that bad
but still it feels criminal
those things that get away
with much less that murder?
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