5 Splinters. A poem by Donal Conaty

We’ve had to stop
hand-to-hand combat
in our house
because of Covid-19
it’s testing our patience

The children are at home
monitoring my online activity
unbeknownst to themselves

A fight in Lidl Bundoran
over the last set
of garden furniture
queues out the door
in other news
43 dead

Day 30
Your head is
a thick soup
41 dead

These sluggish days
I struggle
to do anything but
rest after waking
even yawning is
too much effort
Won’t somebody call
a somnambulance?

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