by Barbara Lydecker Crane
“Respiratory illnesses elevated in 38 states, according to CDC”
The forecaster’s under the weather;
the gardener sleeps like a slug.
Dentists aren’t pulling together,
and techies have picked up the bug.
House painters are shaking with chills
while putting on multiple coats.
The druggists are acting like pills—
They’re all at each other’s damn throats.
Electricians are currently ill;
the nose of the plumber is dripping.
The waitress keeps serving until
her customers tell her she’s tipping.
Salesmen are out of commission,
and oilmen, too, are unwell.
The yogi, in supine position,
discovers nirvana is hell.
The writer is healthy, no sweat,
but still she’s a bit of a chicken.
She’s not in the soup—or grave—yet
she knows that a plot’s apt to thicken.