Pandemic Infection
She is thin
Thinner than the legs of a heron
He is fat
Fatter than the Happy Buddha,
Her eyes hidden under coke bottle spectacles
His hair on his head could be counted
With fingers on one hand.
Her hair is hidden from the view in public
Tucked under the black head cover
For private viewing only
He has a beard
A garden, not attended for ages
She has a limp
A twisted foot due to birth defect
He is on a wheel chair
After loss of both legs
In a mission ill defined.
She can barely speak
Thanks to a stroke on one side
He can barely put food in his mouth
Thanks to Parkinson’s.
She is in penitentiary
Thanks to a crack habit
He is on a watch list
For terrorism
Thanks to a mix up in names
Both are infected
By the same bug
That honors no barriers
Of ocean, mountains, language, customs, cult
Or creed, carrier even age
The symptoms are generic
Lots of smile, tears,
Heart ache, trembling voices
Waiting and cuddling and waiting again
The incurable disease
That makes life worth living.
((*.*))
Babru
March 5, 2007
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