Poetry and the Virus. A poem by Niall Kennedy

Are you still slouching rough beast?
You must be, if you believe Yeats.
But he is dead and gone, when all’s said and done.
So, what’s the point of poetry when in calamity?
Does COVID care if language tears apart?
Eloquence is forgotten, long live omnipotence (of numbers).
10 dead, 20 dead, 30 dead. Who told you?
Was it radio or just your head?
It doesn’t matter now, carry on, see what happens if you keep on keeping on.
The virus may come and it may go,
But here we are now, enjoy the show.