Summary: This poem captures the feelings of uncertainty, anxiety, and isolation experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic. It emphasizes the importance of staying informed while acknowledging the overwhelming anxiety that can come from constant news consumption. The poem also explores how the pandemic has disrupted every aspect of life, from work and school cancellations to the cancellation of social events and physical contact. Despite the challenges, it encourages finding solace and connection in simple pleasures and meaningful activities.

Takeaways:

🌟 Stay informed but be mindful of the anxiety that excessive news consumption can bring.

🌟 Acknowledge and process feelings of uncertainty and fear, but also find strength and hope in the present moment.

🌟 Embrace and appreciate the small joys in life, like art, books, movies, and spending time with loved ones.

🌟 Practice self-care and prioritize mental health by engaging in activities that bring comfort and relaxation.

🌟 Adapt and find alternative ways to connect with others through technology and virtual platforms.

🌟 Remember that this situation is temporary and focus on the resilience and strength that will lead to brighter, post-pandemic days.

I.

this is the kind of poem you write when you don’t know what to write anymore

when hours feel like days and days feel like weeks and weeks feel like months

because you’re terrified, everyone is terrified and unsure of tomorrow

so, you stay home

and you watch the news, the news that has been on for the last few hours, the news that will be on 24/7, because knowledge is power

and information saves lives

except, nothing has changed, and people are still dying, and what’s the point of checking if you’re stuck at home anyway

because in this case knowledge is anxiety

and you’re growing anxious

and more anxious

and more anxious

this is the kind of poem you write when you don’t know what to say anymore

when everything is surreal, when all the stability you have come to love has shattered

when you’ve been checking obsessively to see how many have died today

how many got sick today

how many might not survive today

and you don’t know

and you can’t know

this is the kind of poem you write when you don’t know what tomorrow will look like

when all you can do is make grim armchair predictions

when it’s too hard to think to next year

or next month

or next week

because how dare you think about the future when the present is so uncertain? how dare you check out from what’s happening around you? how dare you have hope when your loved ones could die tomorrow? how dare you? how dare you? how dare you?

while the city is shut down

when no official knows what the right call is

because there is no right call

this is the kind of poem you write when you hope it’ll be over in three weeks

but it might be three months

or a year

or worse

II.

It’s not just about what’s actually happening, is it? It’s about how it makes us feel. Because in times like this, our instinct is to band together, to get closer with our neighbours, to hug and kiss and melt into each other. We want to bond with new people, we want to meet each other for the first time, we want to connect with each other, we want to find strength in numbers. But now? We can’t. We’re trapped. We’re told to isolate, lest everything get worse. Some of us are lucky enough to be with our families, but many of us are alone.

School is cancelled. Work is cancelled. Concerts and sports and parties are cancelled. Museums, gyms and libraries are cancelled. Restaurants are cancelled. Playdates and sleepovers are cancelled. Quick bites with friends are cancelled. Couples dating across the border are cancelled. Kisses are cancelled. Handshakes are cancelled. Stability is cancelled. Payments are cancelled.

What’s left: the news. Social media. Video calls, phone calls and texts. Social distancing. Self-isolation. Panic-buying. Crashing stock markets. Layoffs. Empty cities. Paranoia. Online NAC concerts. People singing songs while quarantined on balconies. Monopoly games at 2 a.m. with your family. Art. Good books. Netflix. YouTube. Coffee. Tea. The little things.