Covid in Wuhan

no, baby girl,

we can’t take the time machine,

it won’t fit inside that apartment.

you’ll just have to listen,

i’m sorry,

but most of history is like that: unverifiable, falsifiable, subjective.

but i’ll tell you anyway,

how we were left,

trapped in that place.

no wait, it started a week before,

i was invited by school,

to get a chinese new years’ present ,

and driving back,

with a box of 200 eggs,

i felt my life is too weird.

those eggs came in handy, though.

how all traffic was halted,

people waiting in terminals,

told to go, no matter if they were residents , all must stay put.

that early morning,

fearing doom,

i ran to walmart,

with mask and goggles,

in the cold winter,

buying everything i could,

and failing to get a taxi home,

had to lug it all myself.

boy, was i sweaty..

and how news came,

of what was going on, frightening,

and how no one knew what to do,

so better blame others,

and do nothing.

and how the local shop ,

went out of business,

’cause they had no merchendise,

and how we could not take your mom for walks outside,

so we waited by the window,

watching for brave souls,

to take their dogs out.

and how one elevator was strictly reserved for THE covid guy,

from the tenth.

and how people thought,

this will stay in china,

and did not anticipate problems.

i can tell you, girl,

how we could get no diapers,

and formula,

and got help from charitable people, how we struggled,

to entertain your mom,

and provide,

some measure of stimulation,

and surprise.

how we made do:

unable to buy toys,

i took apart some appliances,

so she will have new things to manipulate with her fingers,

sitting on the play mat.

the crazy neighbor who wouldn’t go down for deliveries,

fishing, hoisting bags of groceries, how we had a good show,

to see the catch of the day: detergents, toilet paper,

pork ribs, fish.

Marx’s law of diminishing returns:

applies to confined spaces,

in particular;

the benefit we could make from a given limited space,

decreases over time.

i lost weight,

she learned to walk,

i got crazy,

she started talking,

i got frustrated,

she started giggling.

you see, people are essentially snails,

the rough pavement grinds on them,

and much is left behind,

secreted on the trail.

sometime i wake, and find myself,

reliving a moment.

undoubtedly i was there,

and some times i live there still.

but this is the real lesson,

the goodness of others, the occasions of joy we feel,

like your mom’s first birthday,

which we set up hurridly ,

while she was napping.

that pigeon that drew her attention,

as it explored our balcony,

for an entire hour,

or that rare snow blizzard ,

swirling so beautifully outside.

those occasions are proof:

life will go on.

and perhaps, somewhere ,

there is a thing of great agency,

that provides those islands of light, to keep us alive.

for what purpose?

maybe we can spin up,

that time machine of yours,

travel to future,

maybe those guys found an answer...

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