The sound of pandemic is silence.
I drive to work in silence, unable to enjoy
music anymore for some reason,
my thoughts too anxious and loud.
We rarely play music at work
though one of us is still pushing for
The lobby is closed to the public,
so we work with the blinds closed,
me in my windowless room.
More silence on the way home.
There is nowhere else to go.
No stops to make.
I am getting to work earlier
and staying later,
taking a shot at
my mother’s favorite addiction.
I keep ordering CDs I don’t listen to.
The new Lucinda Williams,
the new Lady Gaga,
the new Indigo Girls,
a Christian band I got nostalgic for
although I’m no longer Christian.
I hear the bass of my neighbors’ stereo
at all hours.
just loud, meaningless thumps.
There is nowhere to drive to anymore
to get away from it.
My summer concerts have been cancelled.
The movie theaters are empty.
My muse barely whispers anymore.
In the war for my soul,
reality has finally won.