Bunuel’s Safe Spaces With No Exits (Ft. Steven Wilson’s Harmony Korine)
In placid lone islands,
six feet socially distanced,
with no exits we reside,
feeling the way the eyes of tornadoes must feel,
there’s no sound to quiet the howling.
We surrender to survive the plague and
feel afraid, to wait forever.
Like Oran’s contagion,
the viral invasion lay bare the frailty:
we shrugged in disbelief
and ignored the evidence.