Grant Mclaughlin
Coronavirus, I won’t forget how you
forced open my closed red mouth,
hidden behind a mask.
How you poured your viral-genetic-poison-sugar bag
down my unsuspected mouth.
Choked.
Filled my lungs with cement,
made me cough up asphalt from my weathered mouth,
roommate's fear stuck
unannounced
You tied a ribbon around my neck,
you put cotton balls down my clenched mouth,
deep inside my
throat.
You clawed through my mask
and put your dirty fingers in my unprotected mouth,
used my uvula as a fidget
toy.
I just want to breathe,
but I’m coughing up my soul from my already dead mouth.
Covid took away
a mother’s little boy,
And then it sewed Grant shut like
a doll head’s mouth.

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