Another COVID Christmas, and some birthday wishes “Dahoo Dores, Fahoo Fores/Welcome Christmas, come this way . . .” Ah, pray tell, and what enchanting aromatics are these, wafting their perfumes so sweetly in the crisp holiday air?
Is that frankincense, I smell? Myrrh? Succulent Whoville roast beast? Ha! Dream on, bitches! Uh huh, my fellow revelers, that’s right: Merrily, we all stand here, again, globally shackled in the frost of our togetherness, shambling into yet a third year now in a row, silently screaming against our forced entry into the bottomless maw of a world roiling in COVID unkillable.
No longer an anomaly, Rona, and her passel of demented, shapeshifting sisters, ain’t just pitching their camp tents here on Earth, en route to