My Promiscuous Pandemic

Reader, I wore a mask the whole time.

I promise: I never strayed from my family bubble.

God be my witness: I washed these hands until they were pink and raw.

But this horny mind of mine

she got into bed —

Sometimes it was the backseat of a used car

Sometimes in an alley

Sometimes the broom closet —

with everything.

She flitted from lover to lover

like a hummingbird

hitting those big pink and white

winter blooms of the Sasanqua.

She woke up in beds

she didn’t recognize

and wondered — with an unfamiliar book collapsed

on her face —

“How did I get here?”

She met them on the Internet,

invited them into our home,

again and again,

people she barely knew,

socialists, communists, revolutionaries & outlaws.

She took them for all they were worth,

as if each time — this time —

her appetite would be sated,

satisfaction & comfort

slackening the sickening yearning.

Still, the bright blue button beckoned.

RSVP. REGISTER. JOIN.

And she did.

*For Haymarket Books & their YouTube channel