- Vol. 09
- Chapter 08
Image by Reed Geiger
Pandemic
That evening started normally
enough,
the usual lousy take-away
and stuff
then out to some club, hot and
sleazy,
Wayne and Melissa began feeling
queasy.
Maybe it was the chemistry in
the wine,
but sawbones said “nope, it’s a
sure sign
of Truckin’ Virus, and there ain’t
no cure
where it comes from nobody
is sure.”
So every time the lighting
got bright,
their backs would arch, butts
get tight,
all their friends said they both
were cursed,
wherever they arrived, their knees got
there first,
their elbows would flex to music
unheard,
spill their cappuccinos every time
they stirred.
Pandemic
Wayne and Melissa have now grown
apart,
it ain’t love any more, but it sure
is Art.