The Dinged-up Armature of Getting by

(Artwork courtesy of Sarah Tell at Distress Press)

The usual hum and bustling thrum of public life has vanished,
leaving only this eerie blank lull
like frozen antelope halted on train tracks,
in a perpetual monolithic limbo.
Birdsong is everywhere,
trills and squawks and even a subtle flapping of wings
suddenly so loud in all of this quiet.
Whales are singing more. Coyotes are roaming the Financial District.
Nature breathes easy as humanity holds its breath.
The streets of…