Stucco Ceilings

I glance up,out of habit I suppose,and stare at the stucco:the white plasterwith its black speckles.I study it.Waiting for the sudden epiphanythat ceilings seem to invokein other people.My logic chastises me. I glance at it again;at the black specklesthat mar the white paint.And the stucco answerswith a bumpfrom the tenant above me.

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Panic at the Pandemic

You give us all quite a scare,
so we try to prepare,
and suddenly we care
a lot about toilet paper.

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Grief

He didn’t notice it shrink, not at first, but rather felt the tweak at the corner of his lip, twitch, twitch, until it slipped into, unintentionally, a smile.

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