Rodak's Writings: a Poem for Easter

HOLY WEEK, 2020

Drones hum above,
peer into baby buggies,
searching for clues.
Far below, the bug rages,
millions cringe in dark corners,
masked and abandoned,
watch as men truck the bodies,
gouge the parks for mass graves:
it’s just like the Nazis,
but without the bad press.
Still, tomorrow is Easter--
eat some chocolate and listen:
the sun also rises;
He is Trending;
chill out.