For the Corona Warriors

We’ve gotta be seen
and we’ve gotta be heard
we’ve gotta shower the petals
and impress the locked-in herd.
So, we use them wings
to fly across the kingdom’s span
while motivational tunes
are played on by our army bands.

Our department of symbolism
will go further
with our banners,
the officers will salute the warriors
in hospitals
with sirens and flares.
It’s the least (or the most) we can do
to show how much we care.

Because the ‘show’ must go on,
because the medics asked for a song,
Because you can knock off hundreds of kilometers on foot,
or pedal away under the sun.
Or if that fails,
you can cram in with your buddies
in a cement mixer
if you are desperate enough to get home.
Because you are the extra meat
that doesn’t deserve the fleet.
Son, you have no passport,
and you don’t even count for votes,
You aren’t a brand-building NRI
You won’t look easy on the eye.

And aviation fuel is precious,
as precious as the petals
we’ll shower tomorrow.
If you position yourself well,
and spread your arms
so you become a big target,
maybe some of the flowers may land
on your shoulder.
Go on son, venture out,
it’s time to get bolder.


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