The Logarithmic Death
I'm on a learning curve and learned today
a straight line means exponential growth, and
the steeper the line, the faster the death toll.
You saw the number of death this morning?
The tiresome business is all over again.
The stock of coffins dwindling
dazed with grief, I leaf the morning paper, swallowed up
by virus's treachery, racing like a wildfire.
Will it die a natural death?
Its insatiable appetite for death solicits
more concessions from humans who no longer
have individual destinies, only collective destinies.
We either find a rift in its wall of fire
or succumb to our bereavement and anxiety.
I'm on holiday without pay
auto-isolating long before the decree, calculating the
mathematics of defeat, asking
how will it be in three or six months?
and how close to virus's guillotine?
Through aeons of cold thoughts
frost in sheer chasm
no sun moon or star
earth empty bizarre
hell's grim phantasm
dust into dust blown
where ghosts jug on the sidewalks
each one six feet apart, alone
in retreat like ghouls of
lonely cemeteries
wraiths of uneasy covenant
too afraid to surmise the
brave salutation of a
passerby.
Copyright © Kaveh Afrasiabi | Year Posted 2020
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