the walk home

Sun’s low. The day’s so slow. Cool breeze.
Decide to walk around some to stretch my knees.
Mask on. Not my first choice ’cause that was unattainable.
Had to go with cloth since N95’s ain’t available.
Unless I could buy that access like the famous and the rich
Saw gloves on the sidewalk that somebody ditched
Going on 10 weeks stuck in this sole apartment.
Cramped like registrations in glove compartments.
Thank God I’ve a job that promotes working remotely.
Adapting to this new way of life that we’ve learned rotely
This walk feels different but I know nothing’s changed.
Should I walk far? Nah, I’ll keep it in range.
Everyone’s got on masks; we’re daywalkers like Blade
No party in sight but it looks like a masquerade
Usually ’round this time of year, you’d probably find
Concerts at The Rey, tour buses, lights, long lines
Security at the entrance pattin’ ’em down
Graduates, all smiles in their caps and gowns
Jazz at the museum, trombones to harmonicas
As the 720 snakes thru, DTLA to Santa Monica
Coffee shops closed; I’m going to need some caffeine
I don’t sleep well, sheeeeit, you know my routine
Early bird, night owl; no occasion’s too small
These days I hang out on Hangouts and Zoom calls
Seeing Wilshire so quiet is pretty freaky to me
The only sound’s the rustling of garbage and debris
Time’s standing still and I’m skirting on the edges
Feeling like Will Smith in Times Square in I Am Legend
A jogger bumps into me, no “sorry” or contact of irises
No mask either, guess he’s gonna outrun these viruses
All of these stores have been closed since March
Flattening the curve may flatten the Golden Arch
Can’t watch the news anymore, only bleak projections
Have to catch my breath when I see the rising infections
I have family and friends on the front lines of this war
In hospitals, ambulances, and grocery stores
They’re all doing God’s work so we all support them
And presidential parades and flyovers do nothing for them
Sirens blare on the regular, chasing these speed demons
Decreased traffic has increased cars flipped over on the cement
Saw an accident the other day just down Olympic
Human minds sometimes are excruciatingly simplistic
Haven’t seen a protester yet, saying their pain is systemic
And that their freedom trumps the public health in pandemics
When her life depended on it, Anne Frank stayed inside for 2 years
3 weeks in, we’re screaming about pedicures, BBQs, & barber shears
We’ve got to manage this whine like a sommelier
Bourbon waiting for me back at the atelier
The neighborhood cheers for essential workers at 8pm
Showing our appreciation is the least we can do for them
Hand claps, pots, pans, air horns, cymbals, acapellas
Probably the only time I’ll get to blow my blue vuvuzela
Sun’s set. The night’s here. Nocturnal chill to the bone.
Time to cease this roam and head on back home.
Make sure my mask’s secure ’cause it’s trying to slide
Through the streets of LA, my mind flies and glides
But uncertainty rules the night as the day steps aside
As I wonder how we’ll be on the other side.