“Bring out your dead!”

— Daniel Defoe, A Journal of the Plague Year

magnified it looks like a magnetic mine

from an ancient war, outmoded long ago,

come back to wreak destruction on our world:

A virus smaller than a microdot,

all but invisible, virulent

beyond belief. Who would have ever thought

such a mere speck could wipe our species out?

enlarged resembling a lethal birthday cake

lit with the candles of our infected blood,

redder than any rose or waxen seal.

Avatar of nothing but our end,

fouler than monster movie freak or fiend.