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Defining a Pandemic
A pandemic is the aroma of fresh ginger boiling in the pan.
A pandemic is the woman at the butcher who said,
‘Mais ce n’est past la guerre.’
‘Mais ce n’est past la guerre.’
A pandemic is following the science as if science is a newly constructed and perfectly illuminated motorway.
A pandemic is the killer of the dreams of the young.
A pandemic is the unforgivable linkage of incompetence to heroism to death.
A pandemic is the logistics of visors, gowns, masks and mortuaries.
A pandemic is photos of dead nurses and doctors and not understanding how all these good people, the best of us, are dead, how, how, how we can not have done better?
A pandemic is not being sick any more and the taste of oranges again as if for the very first time, a child again.
A pandemic is the words you never said, words you should have said, the words you won’t get a chance to say.
A pandemic is a dream of a bird with feathers made of silver.
A pandemic is the meticulous calculation of the efficacy of the different types of masks.
A pandemic is the physics of the dispersion of droplets.
A pandemic is staring at axolotls in an aquarium.
A pandemic is the murderer of memories that will never be made.
A pandemic is exponential but not knowing what exponential means.
A pandemic is the monetisation of discontent through the petty, self-interested, selfish exaggeration of differences.
A pandemic is the revealing of a map of the world which in the completeness of its contours more accurate than any before.
A pandemic is the unnatural loudness of the birds singing in the mornings.
A pandemic is the fear in the exhausted eyes of the women at the counters in the supermarket.
A pandemic is the yellow of the sunset over an eerily quiet city.
A pandemic is waking in the night and not being able to breathe.
A pandemic is the asteroids in the sky and the sharks in the sea.
A pandemic is the wait for the hypoximeter’s red numbers.
A pandemic is the mechanical breathing of ventilators.
A pandemic is the people who did not believe the boy who cried wolf.
A pandemic is knowing that everything that came before was wrong.
A pandemic is being too scared to sleep because you don’t know if you’ll wake up again.
A pandemic is the confection and confusion of numbers for political objectives.
A pandemic is the grass grown long and untrampled daisies.
A pandemic is persisting with arguments that never meant much and now mean nothing at all.
A pandemic is the absence of touching and the absence of being touched.
A pandemic is knowing that everything before was right.
A pandemic is the realisation of the commonplace of mortality.
A pandemic is your hand in mine, mine in yours, for how long, not forever, now we know, now we don’t know, we don’t.
A pandemic is the scrupulous adherence to the red distance markets taped to the floor of the bakery.
A pandemic is excuses.
A pandemic is the certainty of knowing what’s best for everyone else and making sure you tell everyone else as loudly as possible so they are not confused by your message.
A pandemic is the loss of control and then regaining of control only for it to be voluntarily lost again.
A pandemic is the final triumph of numbers.
A pandemic is the stiffness of lungs.
A pandemic is daily, rolling, linear, logarithmic, per capita.
A pandemic is the slope and the slope of the slope of curves
A pandemic is kindness, cruelty, heroism, villainy.
A pandemic is the time for prayers and wishes .
A pandemic is us.
/ends
/ends
A pandemic is lying and being lied to.
