Sea of Obituary
Fragments of obituaries
Cloud my vision
And
Since they come in
Waves
It feels a little bit like
Drowning
This should never be
Not in 2020 surely
It is though darling
And yes
It will be even when
You eventually open
Your baby blue eyes
Look behind
Those death certs honey
There are bodies
Piled outside capitals
And they are everywhere
London and New York
Are not exceptions
Mass graves and fire pits
Are in vogue as summer
Beckons
And welcomes all
Cautious visitors
At least those wearing
Gloves and face masks
To the twenty first century