I grew up safe.
“We’ve suffered enough”
was the refrain.
Somehow, I assumed
That my grandparents’ miraculous survival
Had vaccinated me against real hardship.
I am a rare beneficiary of the American Dream.
A product of people who knew how to survive
Figuring out where
to stand in line
So the Nazis gave them the thickest part of the soup.
Somehow, they made it all the way to Brooklyn.
worked hard, raised children.
Found prosperity on occupied Indigenous land.
And I grew up safe.
I grew up feeling entitled to safety.
It’s somewhat a relief
That I’m just like everybody else.
That my lungs are just as vulnerable
My safety far from guaranteed.
In its own way
Corona brings us together.
Shielding us from the insatiable needs of Capitalism.
Reminding us: slow down.
Cherish your life.
When there are no guarantees.
So wash your hands of fear.
Compost your anxiety
and use it to plant seeds.
Let them grow from the depths of your belly
Reaching their tendrils towards our
Tenuous, tenacious future.
Searching for, and reveling
In the light.