The poet, broadcaster and children’s author Michael Rosen contracted Covid-19 a year ago and spent 48 days in intensive care. His new collection of prose poems attempts to make sense of that time. Here’s a piece in today’s Guardian about him:
Things feel a tiny bit more like normal here in my Manhattan neighborhood. Parts of the city’s business districts are hurting still and near empty. Broadway is still dark. But schools are opening up more. I went a 1/2 block from my apartment to get some Chinese takeout tonight. First time in a year I was moved to do it. I find on my daily exercise walk I’m venturing further like I used to. I went by a movie theater today that had just reopened. The Irish pub near the Chinese place has set up a beautiful enclosed outdoor space. I got my first shot last week just up the street.
EARLIER BIRD
I have to
do the numbers
when I swing
my legs out
from under the covers and
put my feet
on the floor
looking around at the dark
to justify
getting up and starting
my day at
4 o’clock.
But I do the numbers
and 9 o’clock till 4
is enough
and I say fuckit out loud
and
get up
kind of excited to
get another day
going.