"Absurdity and Corruption"

 

Ideologues idolized—

Seductive sirens

luring loyalty

mandating mores

destroying diversity

wrangling words

fostering falsehoods

designing doubts

customizing confusion

sanctioning skepticism

fanning fears

attracting absurdity

civilizing corruption

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Funhouse Mirrors"

 

David Chapman-aritst

Look into the eyes

vacant sockets

hollowed by decadence

and despair

distortions of reality

rippled and waved by experiences

your view, my view

righteous and indignant

warped by conspiracy

Look at the smile

deceitful daggers

grotesque with innuendo

and disbelief

twists of faith

buckled and bent by interpretations

your view, my view

dishonorable and  corrupt

perverted by unknowns

Look for the Truth

barren words

spoken through slanders 

and mystique

sleight of hand

molded and modified by consequences

your view, my view

devout and extreme

destroyed by secrecy

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Super Spreader Shower”

             Our incredible caution with avoiding COVID-19 meant limiting activities even after vaccination. If a restaurant’s tables appeared too crowded, we either did take-out, or we found a less crowded place to eat. With a year of reduced spending behind us, I vowed to keep within our new tight budget by designating each month a merchandise category. April turned into auto repair month, May meant painting two rooms, June was Paul’s birthday month, and July’s focus zeroed in on finding a new phone for me, getting our vision checked, and getting our dog to the vet.

            Each of these goals occurred safely. The store where we went to replace my ancient iPhone 4 limited the number of people in the area. We signed in, waited minimally, and transacted the entire process with only a few other people around us. Our optometrist’s office had us stay in our car and text them upon arrival. Other than his personnel, no other patients sat in the waiting room. Koi’s vet followed a similar protocol. I called when I pulled into the parking lot and their technician came out to lead an extremely reluctant Koi into the building. The vet called me as he ran through Koi’s physical. Koi’s nagging cough turned out to be the beginnings of tracheal collapse. He explained the treatment, sent out all of the instruction (along with the bill). The contact between me and his aide proved so minimal that I always felt safe.

            On July 8^th, we received an email invitation to one of our nephew’s baby shower. To accommodate some of us who approached COVID-19 with caution, the party would occur outside by the pool. I need to explain that most of the people in attendance had ignored every warning about COVID-19 with many of them falling ill to the virus within the first few months. These separate house-holds still vacationed together, and they celebrated holidays in a large group. They politicized mask wearing and vaccinations, believing in many of the conspiracy theories that fester uncontrolled throughout our country.

            For us, the threat of infection from this gathering made us reluctant to attend. We knew that at least fifty people would attend. My doctor, who happened to call a few days before the baby shower, advised us to keep our masks on at all times, even if we stayed outside. She warned, “Delta’s a devil!”  

            July 24^th found us ostracized by the family members who didn’t believe in masks and vaccinations, which turned out to be a lucky for us. Those guests who were vaccinated didn’t wear masks. I told them about my doctor’s warning, but some responded like it was exaggerated. They falsely believed that vaccination provided a shield, not understanding that you still need masks and distancing! By July 28^th we received notification that our nephew’s stepfather, unable to breathe, had landed in the ER and ICU. He died in December after an extremely long, brutal battle. A few days later, word came out of the eight other people also infected. Fortunately, because they were vaccinated, their cases were mild.

 

Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman