Lockdown diary / 3-4


We are falling like pieces of domino. We are being buried in mass graves. Our immune systems are killing us instead of them. We cannot breathe. The earth that we thought we had conquered is closed off to us. Tigers are laughing. Fish are dancing in circles. Roses are more fragrant this spring. Sun ripened grapes are juicier this month, the deadliest of the pandemic. This good news has reached even the honeybees who are planning a wine party tonight. Mosquitoes are doing the cha-cha-cha. Wolves are urinating on our burning pyres. Deer and panthers have congregated on the outskirts to see the magnificent spectacle. Marie Antoinette’s severed head is rolling on the streets. We are the earth’s aristocracy. We must be shown our place.

3 responses to “Lockdown diary / 3-4”

  1. “…this month, the deadliest of the pandemic.” I hope you are wrong. We really need to be shown our place.

    Your sentences are like those sun-ripened grapes.

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