Showing posts with label contagion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contagion. Show all posts

Sunday, March 29, 2020

COVID obit

The whole world is talking
about that COVID we dread;
world  biz-trade is balking
so we won’t end up dead.



Scientists snip at the micro pathogen
to concoct an effective vaccine
while we elude the awful contagion,
keeping hands and our noses clean.

To assure us the required social distance,
the system skids to a dam near-stop,
though trumpian troupes make insistence
biznez as usual shall not flop.

Let’s just slip through this quick and easy-like
while congress cooks up a free lunch;
we’ll quarantine inconvenience; we’ll sanitize hype;
cuz elixir’s gone viral in politicized punch.

Hey! if you find comfort in that congressional dole
I’ve got some covid-cure I’ll sell ya!
Let’s just slip through this corona going-viral hole.
But how it happens I truly can’t tell ya.

Our rich uncle Mitch and his significant other,
rich uncle Sam sham of flim-flam fame—
they’ll send us a check from our long-gone mother
financed with Fed-Trez lame ponzi game.

Now we dance to a red-ink tune of 23 trillion
cuz we’d rather be red than dead.
But hey! not to worry cuz its video godzillion;
If the beast gets too big they’ll chop off his head!

Beast

Glass Chimera

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

Beware the Ideas of March

Beware the Ideas of March, baby!

Evbody awoke to a manic monday in witch all of sudden them hyperventilating stocks were tanking while the black swans circled in swirls of a world wide whirlpool that no wallstreet stool pigeon would be caught dead in, all becuz the cold hard tickertape truth was unwinding plainer and plainer for all to see, or not see as the case maybe, while meanwhile the micro-droplets floated forth in the closed cabins of intercontinental flights as potent pathogens pursued perilous paths of pathogenic pandemic. yes virginia  the miniscule moana corona was erupting not  unlike moana loa spewing skyward spurts of swarmy germs squirming through the ambient air with vectors of infected droplets exacerbated through  presumptive pathogen-preventive protocols  all around us as the news of the day disclosed formerly  covert  covid was going globally overt, giving new meaning to the going-viral webspeak.
Watch out for the wuhan virus some sneaky folks uttered as if the hubei whosehoo were somehow responsible for this nefarious disease. But the truth is those unfortunate hubeis who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when the dam thing broke out in the middle of the middle kingdom—they should not catch the flak for this fluke of a flu-like phenomenon.

I mean, not even Mona Carona could have stopped this thing; nor would even Jonah Carona have the wherewithal to escape being swallowed up by its deadly medley of molecules spewing forth contagion across the world.
Read ‘em and weep, oh ye citizens of the world. There is indeed no immunitive shot to be heard of around the world becuz we dont have a vaccine.
I mean, not even a  quentin quarrentino flick could deflect all the infective flak that flies now forth from the mouths of babes and the coughs of sextarian golfers and the sneezes of wheezing whodoos—its viral voodoo i tell ya!
What we need now is some damn Social Distancing! ‘cuz in this day and time if something is unlikely to happen it will  and if something is likely to happen, it won’t.
Why, why . . . even ceasar was deceived when some weird troll sisters uttered beware the ides of march altho really and truly it was the 16th of Ides when all this pent-up pandemonium came pummeling down— he, like, um,

 he had harkened not to the, like, um, warning, choosing instead to, like, um, eschew the WHOhoos test or maybe he was just wearing the rose-colored glasses that day, eschewing the media-led brouhaha as overkill,  when . . . like . . . suddenly he felt, um, the unkindest cut of all as Bernie and Biden, not unlike Brutus, slashed forth with their brash jackass stiletto speeches,  and he found himself like, um, having to cut to the chase instead of prolonging any further display of his empire’s new clothes, and it looked as if he might even go along with Nancy’s nanny-state butt-kicking demmies in the House.
But hey . . . no worries. Its all good.

And if you believe all that, I’ve got some MBS and CDOs I’ll sell ya— so’s you can hedge your bare-sterns with some leeman broohahas as a counter-strategy against the now-going-viral Mona Carona because she’s a hot number on the net .  . . I mean she’s only, like, um, 19 . . . very contagious.
But all this viral spiral did, indeed, like, hit the fan on that fateful blue monday, the day after the ides of March. By ’n by, it like, um, metastasized into the covidized Ideas of March, 2020, and that was, like, the monday that was. Who knows what will go down next? It’s a tough act to follow!

IdeasMarch

I mean like, um, who knew?
You?

Glass half-Full