My friend tells me self-isolation makes them want
to kill themselves. I say you can’t commit suicide
in a pandemic, it’s like bringing a brass band
to New Orleans. Like turning on a lamp
and pointing at it with a flashlight.
Like asking someone if they love you
and when they say no, you say, but do you?
Like fireworks are exploding everywhere
and you go inside and put on a movie
of fireworks. Like those bands with two drummers.
Like a gift certificate for the liquor store
but you own the liquor store. Like having a clone
but instead of exercising its autonomy and pulling cool pranks
on your significant other it’s chained to your ankle
and can only think what you think and do
what you do. Like living in a forest and going for a walk
and describing it as “a walk in the woods”.
Like trailing sanitation workers and wearing their uniform
but only miming picking up the garbage. Like playing
therapist to your therapist. Mowing the lawn then chewing it.
Putting a condom on a condom. Like a wall
around a border. Yet another civil servant. Like buying a hairbrush
then getting swamped on social media with ads for hairbrushes.
Like making a lion perform a trick and after they do,
flawlessly, you’re like, hey lion,
that sucked, do it again, so
they eat you.