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IN THE YEAR OF THE VIRUS

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POEMS BY FELIX CHEONG ARTWORK BY EKO
A WORD FROM THE VIRUS

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IDONOT PAN ®

IF YOU ARE CRASS,

| ASK FOR NO QUARTER AND | GIVE NONE.

WHEN | AM AS FREE OF HANG-UPS UNDER THE SUN,

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|DO NOT DISCRIMINATE, THOUGH YOu DO.

IN THE FEARS OF THE WORLD, | AM NOT SCHOOLED.
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THEN YOU ARE A FOOL.
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IGNORE ME AND YOU ARE

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SIX FEET UNDERGROUND

IN THE YEAR OF THE VIRUS

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IN THE YEAR OF THE VIRUS

| BECOME FRIGHTENED OF MATH

AND HOW THE NUMBERS GO STARK MAD.

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THE SAME STORY EVERYDAY. | WAKE ON THE
WRONG SIDE

IT’ILL NOT BE OVER SOON, THEY SAID.
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THEY ARE KNOCKING ON MY DOOR 4

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MORE AND MORE.

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THIS, TOO,SHALL PASS

WHERE DEATH HAS PACED THIS POST LAST, /¢

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_— AS IT APPROACHES ME.

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A SNAPPED AND SHOT NO

SHALL PASS.

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™—_HOW WE HOLD FAST

MADE BY A MASKED MA

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CLEAR ABOUT KEEPING CLEAR?

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TILL DEATW
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SHE SAYS TO HIM
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AS THE SUN’S REACH OF HERE.
IT MOVES,

IT SLIPS,

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IT FOLDS.

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SOMEWHERE ELSE IN LOVE TO BE.”
“THIS WILL NOT DO.

’VE NOT COME THIS
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LET YOU WASTE
OUR YEARS.”

SHE WINDS AROUND HIS FRAME

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WEIGHTLESS AS SAND:

WHAT REMAINS IS THEIR SHAPE,

A CIRCLE OUTSIDE THE WHIMS OF FATE,

LETTING IN LOVE, AND GRIEF.