DAY 72: In 72 days our doorbell
has rung 4 times
I jumped every time
not recognizing
the sound.
I heard the beep-beep
garbage truck backing up
in the night -- that's new too.
yesterday I spun my arms
over my head and they cracked
like kindling twigs going into
a campfire,
a hypnotizing campfire dying
down after all the stories are told
stories of truth stranger than
fiction -- of the 2020 plague
when everything changed.
dirty kids in the mountains
cutting up, teasing, keeping
it light -- if you need to cry
walk away into the blackness
but come back to hear the
punchline about the gone
old man using a Depends
for a face mask walking
down the beach screaming
at spring breakers, screaming
a warning into the breakers
drowned out by the crash
drowned, later, in another
way -- silly chump.