Rodak's Writings: An Ode to the Pandemic

What This Fresh Hell Is

                          All things must happen

                          left to right,

as your sight

now guides your mind,  

finally to fall off

the dexterous edge.

Thus the scorching sun

is Satan’s wand.

The prevailing breeze

is the Word of God.

The Ground of Being

smiles down on the virus:

Left to right

the ‘Rona rules.

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.

Reflections: The First Day of the Rest of My Life

Today is the first day of my retirement from Ohio University, where I have been working for the last 23 years. I don't know if I should be celebrating--even though there is a pandemic raging--but I'm not.

I find the loss of the illusion that holding down a job put me in control of my life and destiny is disquieting. There is fear that the pandemic, which has shut down most businesses, thrown millions out of their jobs, and caused the stock market to tank, will permanently cripple the economy, so that my pension money disappears even before it ever started. 

And, since Laura graduated in December and went back to NYC, I am now completely alone all day, every day. I have no one but my cat, Mona. She is a blessing, but not much of a conversationalist. I am too radically introverted to go out into the world and interact with strangers, just for the sake of some social intercourse. 

So here I sit, silently worried.

Because of the pandemic, should I need help, my family would not be able to come to my aid. Never have I felt so alone. 

And it has only just begun.