Epidemic

I want to write a poem like SARS that infects
All those exposed, compels experts to dissect it
Into all its smaller parts. They’ll hold it up to the map
Granted by the Human Genome Project and nod.
I want to build a poem of proteins found in DNA
So that it hums humanity. I won’t care you’ll discover
My poem’s lowly birth festered in pig shit and
Chicken shit before making the species jump.
I want to write a poem that will skip from country to
Country, ignore race, be traced, if it must, to a single
Hotel in Hong Kong, be traced back to one woman.
I want to write a poem that slips past gas-masks,
Evades quarantines, spreads at a fevered rate.
For one day, crown my poem Queen for her urbane efforts.
I want to write a poem that eradicates civilian
Death tolls, suffocates the air of fear from our
Sanguine natures, and leaves us coughing, weak,
Thus helpless to peace.

by Britt Kaufmann