in terms of Covid I live in one of our 3 worst states. & in Riverside County which is second only to LA County for number of cases. Republicans blame this on Mexicans. they don't seem to see the throngs of rude tourists who come to play without rules.

in the last day or 2 several restaurants & bars in town have closed back down because of sick employees. the grapevine claims there are at least 10 more with employees who got sick but aren't closing.

the country is being ostracized by the world because of our mismanagement of this crisis. the president cowers in fear -- not wearing a mask because it will smear his makeup. his enablers refuse to speak up.

in 3 years we've become a shit hole country. I don't mind that I'm in my 4th month of strict quarantine to save myself & protect others. but I do mind having to live in this stench.

on my morning walk

my mind stuck on the barrels of photos on social media. people -- sans masks -- hugging in restaurants & laughing in bars. did I not get the memo that the pandemic was over? am I the last person in town still sheltering in place?

maybe the stats I read remain unknown to my fellow citizens. I understand the economy requires a reopening of businesses. but nothing requires me to act as anyone but me.

& as I walkd I felt buoyd by the strength of solitude. I began to see these 3 months of quarantine as a blessing. a chance to withdraw from the din & purpose oneself. I see myself more clearly & I see which friends are really friends.

& as I walkd Thoreau suddenly appeard to me. so when I got home I sat in Gertrude Duryea's rocker with a mug of java & read the beginning of Walden. I'd forgotten that he lived alone in the woods for 2 years & 2 months. but I cd see the value that comes with such a communion with oneself. & how life affirming are his words.

so I'm content with my decision to eschew the stampede to public outings. & I'm firm in rejecting the bullying I'm beginning to get for not responding to invitations to dine.  when Thoreau finishd his experiment & began his writing he reflectd: "At present I am a sojourner in civilized life again." at present I'm happy to be where I am.

at Walden Pond (1966)

"The Nite the Lights Went Out at the White House"

fires outside his window
so the president
cowers in a bunker
wetting his diaper

a sick nation
coughs
droplets of shame