Drink Corona for Corona

I hope you stocked up on enough toilet paper, weed and beer
Since you won’t need them anymore,
There will be more of that before
You know it,
but the fresh lamb and ham and
Fruit Isn’t clear
to show up until next year,
even with warnings
Karen doesn’t care
whether you’re alive or well,
that bitch was wishing you to her version of Hell,
Just last week,
Now she claims the meek
Need to Sanitize between each scanned item
while she preaches about fellow sin
from Starbuck's coffee yellowed thin
Lips and mustard teeth.
Triple bag her shit the baggy triple shit-soul still says,
“I have many military [twice removed] children to feed”
“They need more than those greedy poor”
I will call the police,
And have my niece
Blast him with my husband’s preloaded piece.


Remember, fine member of our Corp
Socialism wasn’t welcome here just a week before,
but it showed up on everyone’s doorstep
Today, and they were all happy and peppy
Whether or not they knew what it was
Or that they supported a cause
They hated 2 weeks ago.
The blue and white collars
United for 1200 dollars
Hallelujah all the people holla,
While the elderly died by the millions.


Did you know before the old were buried,
The young were shoving them out of the way,
Thinking living life meant they had nothing to say,
That just voting for something orange
had brought out some foreign and strange
Alien, way of living?
The stress is bent on giving
me Dementia karma,


Each week we keep trying to predict the shit
We spit while we talk, second thought is
Where ol ‘rona will roam,
down every road of ol’ ‘Merica.
While we wipe down every zone
Of everything we see,
We’re all germaphobes
Now, while the probes
Of the virus
Have United Us
by socially distancing us,
the best hope we get is to be
blessed with emails from dimwit bosses that we’re an Essential Business.


That we will stay open and vulnerable for no more pay,
That we will provide a service worth less than 15,
That we will handle this disease less
Than say, the Communists we love to hate,
our Fate is sealed by everyone
that loves to Run on what Their Media of Choice
Voices for them to Say,
while Your Choices are being limited every fucking day.
by Fellow Fools who use the internet as an excuse
To refuse to believe anything that doesn’t ring
Comfortable to the Ear,
People have forever said that “The End is Near”,
but now, it’s Clear, that we’re not Prepared
For some snare of something worse,
Our curse is our blinded eyes,
Our species is still far from wise,
The United States is set to be a mess of death
Too soon,
Come the next Panic over a Pandemic.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Everything is a mess atm ~ Carmello

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Christmas Hug


God! I never get sick,

24 hour stomach virus,

The waves of nausea,

Each one seems longer than the next,

And then cold sweats,

Kick covers off,

Pull covers up,

Moan a little, so I can hear I'm still alive.


Oh how I hate nausea.


Finally, 3:30 a.m.

I purge, gratefully so,

And my throat burns,

The taste is awful,

And I curl up like a kitten in bed

To listen to the wind howl outside my window.

It's warm and I feel comforted.


I doze off thinking next time 

I'll be more sensitive about my needs

So I don't have to puke my guts up

To feel comforted.


I hate nausea,

Oh I hate it

Like another Christmas spent

With everyone else but you.



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Scientific Observation


Plague victims, as they gave in to the infection were observed, and noted to have loss of coordination, confusion, decrease in some mental functions and increase in others while in the early stages, In the later stages, increased aggression was noted, along with an increase in strength, which seemed offset the lack of coordination. Once in the final stages, their violent nature would become too mu
ch for normal restraints, and they would often break free, and over power even four doctors or more, biting and clawing which can infect anyone who is attacked; they also have a tendency to spit and throw saliva, as their glands go into over drive producing a large amount fluid. This presented the biggest threat outside of just breathing the same air in close proximity.

Standing at the gate of imprisonment


At remains of the bridge, she stood; looking out across the void that once connected Victor Island to the world beyond its borders. What was suppose to be a sanctuary for the living, was found to be a desolate graveyard; a prison that now held her within is walls. Only the midnight wind offered any comfort, as it wrapped its cold, numbing arms around her. On her soft, pale face, it kissed her gently, as if to kiss away the exhaustion and the scars she carried.