How Whiteness Met The Virus

First, it denied all. 

Then, it shook its finger at the ocean
and what was on the other side.

It talked to itself on street corners.
Hung about on beaches. Flocked 
to malls, stormed the bars.

The usual victims had begun to fall
before 
it started to shake for its own sake —
and when that was done? Soon enough,

it, too, started to smell.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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