Ode to Maladies

Ode to Maladies

Wrathful bacteria

Invade the body of the host,

A plight of various ailments ensue, prompting

Overdoses and poison of the remedies. Putative – false.

My fingers brush the brow of another. Wipe the sweat, the pained gasps for

Air.

Respire! Hear the triumph of war – the ominous silence within, the sound of silence.

The orchestra still breathes, but the timpanis have stopped, disabled. Cut off – finé.

The concertmaster plays his solo, anxious, panicked, hurried. And then,

The inevitable fumble of the fingers as the bow slips and falls with a clatter

To the stage, and the conductor casts away his baton. The

Audience draws its collective final breath and the exhalation is slow

As the ensemble drifts into its

Peaceful slumber

 

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The Mosquito Trials: Goodbye Zika or Communal Autonomy?

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