global pandemic

February 7, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i keep pondering early in this
panini
when i wrote and wrote
pages upon pages
freehand
freeverse
free of other older morning page expectations
and i wondered what the world would be like
‘post’
pandemic…
and i felt it,
at the very core of my being
that we’d
‘go back to normal’
before it was really,
truly,
clear
to do so,
and that the ‘normal’
we were heading back towards
had the potential to change,
to be a ‘normal’ benefitting more people
than the normal
benefitting a very
very
very
tiny
percentage,
but i felt it,
that it wouldn’t change
we “couldn’t” change
we wouldn’t change.

and lo and behold
all my strife
from mid-march 2020
to april, may, june, july 2020
most of that has come to fruition:
we aren’t ready,
people are still catching
ventilizing
dying
and half the population is still
pretending
this virus
doesn’t exist.
and of course
we’re going
‘back to the grind’
as if that’s a good thing,
as if it’s strength
or a moral righteousness
that gets you through
(rather than random genetics
and generational privileges
and a system set up to benefit
the few)
and as if
this ‘grind’
is our entire culture
(i mean, at this point, it is,
but that doesn’t make it
good
or right)

and i wish i had something better to say
than ‘i saw this coming’
i mean, i’m sure folks more versed in
infectious disease
and sociology
and economy
and the ‘why’s’ of all this
also saw this coming…
i guess i just wish
i’d had more time
to live in a world of hope
than i actually got.

February 1, 2022

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Fauci Ouchie
Round 3:
The Booster-ing

a whole walk
to and from
computer systems
being buggy
acknowledgement of
zero side effects the last two times
told to just go
(no sitting around rest required)
but
i probably should have
due to the [unrelated] stomach pains
that showed up that morning
that 15-20 minute walk
was the most precarious
15-20 minutes in my life
but i survived
to tell the tale

and the only effect of the shot itself
(so far)
is the tender soreness
at the injection site
(and the only effect
of the stomach pains
are loss of sleep
and a tragic aversion to coffee
i’ll soon rectify
because
of that loss of sleep)

January 31, 2022

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it’s about to be
That Time:

February.

in a non-leap-year,
February and March
have the same date attached
to the same day of the week,

and this messes me
the fuck
up.

i’ve missed more appointments
than i care to admit
scheduling them for February
when i thought i’d scheduled them for March,
and more than a few
shown up too early
seeing the day and the date come up
in the second month of the year
just to have them actually be
in the third.

i know ‘reading the date more carefully’
is a way around this,
but sometimes my eyes see
exactly what they want to see
instead of what is

(and especially within this
year three
of a global porcupine ,
where concentration is lacking
in most of us
due to collective trauma
observed
[directly or indirectly]
day in
and day out
and day in
and day out
and my only saving grace
last year
was that nothing needed to be scheduled
during these months;
resurgences,
and my own clumsy injuries,
and the cold outside,
and my own seasonal depression…
i hid through most of the winter,
hibernated the initial instance of
‘Tuesday the first’
away)

but
i’m trying to be more proactive
more energized
more engaged
this year
so i’ll read
and re-read
and re-re-re-read
and have my spouse check
the dates of things
(or just not schedule anything
non-consistent
at all)
(i mean, hey,
there’s a reason i scheduled my booster
for today,
the last day in January,
a date i won’t even see
for another
fifty-nine
days)

and maybe
just maybe
this therapy
of breathing
and taking my time
and forgiving myself
my past errors
is [could be] helping?

January 24, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

we are now
well into
the third year
of living in new york city
and though i’m not where i thought i’d be,
the whole world isn’t where it thought it’d be
either.

the pandemic has really taken the onus
off my own head
for what i wanted to accomplish
when i got here,
and redirected my aims
not lower
just sideways-er,
from theatre/circus/maybe film
to voiceover/film/maybe circus
(and a little activism in there
because how could you not be
when looking at
this world)
and theatre…?
who knows what will happen
within this third year
(within these next few months/weeks/days)
but i do know that
governmental policies (or lack thereof) really left the public
out in the cold
at the very beginning
of this whole ordeal
and haven’t been able to rectify
that harm
(nor have i seen much in the way of trying)
and i shouldn’t have expected any better
but man
do i want
to trust
that people
will do the right things,
but power seems to corrupt
even the
best of us…

but
i was talking about
living in new york city
and my life here
(or lack thereof)
and all i have to say is,
though i don’t think i ever really got
the ‘true’
living in nyc experience,
i still suspect
i couldn’t live
anywhere
else.

January 14, 2022

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most other years
i struggle a bit with writing
the old year vs. the new
but typing i’ve always gotten used to it
just a wee bit faster

(indeed, last year, i could not WAIT
to add that tiny line
that indicated
the entire year of March
was finally done)

but i’ve gone multiple days
(near half a month)
this year
and keep forgetting to switch
that 1 to a 2

and…

is that some sort of omen???

January 13, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i’m so nervous
about today
a new circus place
another chance to move my body
(how does my body move now?
now that i’ve had months and months off from any apparatus,
now that i’ve had over a year away from consistent, daily training,
now that the virus has changed every thing we do
now that the virus has not infected me, but the fear of humanity
constantly
doing wrong
that has infected me,
and i have symptoms daily:
a brain fog of unknowns of who may be smart
and who may be stupid,
tightness in the chest from seeing
that some
would rather sacrifice
[eugenicize]
the weak/old/disabled
as if they’re barely even numbers
(instead of whole human people),
the headache of suspicion that
there is a way to do this correctly
and our country/community/society
just
hasn’t,
the nausea
from knowing
that those in charge
worship money
before any worker
and that they think of people as pawns
to gather them more hoards of money
than they can do anything with in one lifetime,
and, of course, the whole body aches
of observing
the elected officials
i helped put into office
not being held accountable,
i want to hold them accountable,
but they aren’t even listening to those
more outspoken
more knowledgable
more persuasive in their passions
than i’ll ever be
so i’m left
with this
covid despair
this pandemic of existentialism
this disease of caring so much
that you circle all the way around
and start to care
not at all)

(but you do,
you know you do,
you’ve just numbed
the symptoms,
the disease is still
there.)

January 8, 2022

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too tired to write anything
of substance
too word-play-y
to not,
stuck in a limbo
of will i won’t i
(a new take on ‘will they won’t they’)
(get it, cuz i’m nonbinary and use they/them pronouns)

listening to music from the
‘Roaring 20’s’
so what are we?
‘The Coughing 20’s’?
‘The Dying 20’s’?
‘The Denying and Closing our Eyes and Covering our Ears and Screaming “[B]LA[B]LA[B]LA”
Over All the Signs
and Words of Learned Folks
and Science
20’s’?

i wish i had the compassion of
Amanda Gorman
the faith in people of
Anne Frank
the calmness and knowledge and belief
of so many
but i am caught between
i want to see the good
and
i can only see the bad
played
over
and
over
and
over
again
behind my eyelids
every time they close
(and most of the time while they’re open,
too)

i know i’m doing little
to halt/hold/stop the division
of one side
‘gainst the other,
but it’s hard to listen to folks
who’d never listen to me
were i to show them my true self,
who argue that folks like me
are a disease unto society
and deserve the worst of death.
if you can’t look at me like a human
then why should i listen to you
like your opinions have any say
in my living my own life
in my own honest way

(maybe this is why
it’s so important
to look inwards
for spirituality
as opposed to outwards)

but this poem
is kind of a mess,
but it is morning
so i can mull through
my thoughts of the day approaching
and get them all out of my fingertips
and onto this blank page/document/screen
for all to see
(or at least the six of you who usually read)
(hi, by the way)
and the poem doesn’t ~need~ to mean anything
it can just be,
a product of my brain,
my overthinking-
obsessive compulsive tendency-
pessimist in the body of an optimist-
-brain,
and leave it
for whomever may need it
(which might just be me
needing to get it out
in order to write
other things)

December 20, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

a few months ago
i was stricken
with the fact
that it was getting harder and harder for me
to read
detail.

as a person who thrives
on noticing the tiniest things
the fact that i’d started to skim
most posts/paragraphs/poems
alarmed me
greatly;

i thought it was my own fault,
that my brain was changing
with age,
or maybe writing my own poetry
meant i wasn’t paying attention to others’?
it felt wrong
and hypocritical
and about as un-hj as i could become

it wasn’t until
approximately
one month ago
when someone on
ye olde interwebs
(with a degree in psychology, mind you)
informed their viewers
that it’s ok if we’re all feeling
like it’s hard to concentrate
as of late,
as we are still going through
a global
pandemic/
panini/
patrick stewart/
panda express/
an entire global
trauma,
and we shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves.

so i’ll heed their advice,
and in those moments when i can find minute details,
i’ll treasure them with pride.
but until then,
i’ll try to skim twice
as to not miss anything important,
and not beat myself up about it
too too much.