Poems about the Pandemic and Teachers by Chad Parenteau

shallow focus photography of books
photo from Unsplash

Anniversary

January 6,
first year after
everyone lost.
All flashback,
and those 
who saw 
same footage
last year 
still ask
what happened.

Move along
derelict dissidents,
history’s laziest 
suicide bombers.
masks off, waved
like false truce.
comicon of  
wannabe warriors
commanders,
gallon high hats.

Who knows
when their day
will arrive.
They know 
they’re due,
hope the future,
the world 
fought for,
has the courtesy
to go with them.

Waste

Quicken heart,
beat clock

before latest
online hoax

killing you
is forgotten.

Stand in line
just to shove

more bodies
out of bed. 

Your children 
bedsit beside,

read aloud
favorite tales

of science 
vanquished.

Repeat revival,
no one saved.

Voice of
vociferous,

not a single
ear out. 

To the Returning Teachers

Hide fading joy
hamster packed
in your cheeks

before pleasure
principals
scoop rest out.

Avoid those
sighing parents,
victory smug

over which 
of you wanted
children less.

Throw up sun
as sparkling bauble
students can steal.

Race them 
outside in 
circles until

none watching
knows who 
escapes from whom.



Chad Parenteau hosts Boston's long-running Stone Soup Poetry series. His poetry has appeared in journals such as Résonancee, Molecule, Ibbetson Street, Pocket Lint, Cape Cod Poetry Review, Tell-Tale Inklings, The New Verse News, Off The Coast, The Skinny Poetry Journal,  Nixes Mate Review. and the anthology Reimagine America from Vagabond Books. He serves as Associate Editor of the online journal Oddball Magazine. His second collection, The Collapsed Bookshelf, was nominated for a Massachusetts Book Award.



By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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