Even as I slept I dreamt about the poem I’d write

Today. In the silence it comes back to me

“How to make a garlic sizzle”. Of course 

You melt the butter and let the pod hiss 

In the pan. I realise of course it was just a dream

Who writes of garlic and everyday things? 

The morning shimmers outside, it is only 11 am

And it feels like a furnace in this room, the heat 

Seeping from the terrace. The terrace from where 

I watch the sky. Have you ever noticed, 

How the sky is always perfect, although 

It never is the same? We rarely look at the sky

Even with the daily display of sun and stars 

Our minds are searching other truths. 

Pre-occupied with other things, we fret

What shall I serve for lunch today? 

When did you go to sleep? What is it

With you, why don’t you clean up

Your room? How can you watch so much TV? 

Can you turn that volume down? 

Do you think yoghurt is available now? 

Don’t stress, what nonsense people spout!

56 people have already died, two thousand

Plus infected. You think they are doing all they can? 

Surely you don’t think this battle can be won

By lighting candles? I’m so tired of it all.

When will this lockdown end? 

When will this lockdown end?