by: Shirley Satterfield
A Covid Conversation Between Three Micro Poets
Shirley:
“Virtual world.
Friends now come in little boxes.
Wow.”
Karl:
“Virtual world
In daydreams and computer reality.
The mind of fantasy come to life.”
Shirley:
“We are all empty images.
Holograms in hell.
Under Covid’s deathly spell.”
Neel:
“Every morning I wear it fresh and clean.
Every night I strip it off, filthy and hanging on a thread.
A smile in a virtual world is high maintenance.”
Shirley:
“Dreams shattered.
Nerves tattered.
What’s the matter?
What’s that smell?
Holograms in hell.”
