Cull the Herd

Hopefully the bulk of current healthcare-at-the-bedside workers  are with me on this: the Coronavirus poses a significant risk of shortening life expectancy. No matter where it originated from (which hardly matters in the ICU), it is a bad mofo. I believe that social-body-space distancing, mask wearing in public and hand washing, represent our best defense. This poem speaks to the folks who don't believe these recommendations, nor do they recognize the severe risk of death to themselves, and to their loved ones.

Cull the Herd

Herd immunity?
It will take at least three years,
Culling of the herd
Should be added to your fears,
If you're a big old fella
With diabetes or hypertension,
You better watch out boy;
You've got the Grim Reaper's attention.

Who do I speak to?
All the careless folk,
Who love to tell themselves
The Coronavirus joke,
How it's no worse than the Flu
Of which they already have immunity,
Coronavirus will cut them down
At the first opportunity.

Go ahead with your demonstrations
Shake hands, wear no mask and hug your brother,
Perhaps he will share the virus with you
Which will kill your mother,
But you frequently boast
"Well, ya gotta die sometime",
How about your eight year old daughter
Who caught it during lunchtime?

You will weep and moan
And smack the side of your head,
Realizing your foolish actions
Made them dead,
Or, maybe you won’t
You will blame it on the Democrats,
Deep state, Cabal, CNN
And mysterious Fat Cats.

You know the saying
You’re a part of the problem or the solution,
Will St. Peter or Beelzebub?
Offer absolution;
Stay tuned, old buddy
You get to choose,
Your survivability
But will your family lose?