My Poem for the Plague

No end in sight of COVID woes.
No need to rush to fold the clothes.

The kitchen floors are just a sin,
But neighbors won’t be coming in.
When did I dust? I can’t remember.
I can do it in September.
Or when I’m hit with motivation
(Like when they have a vaccination!)
I just don’t see the need to rush
To give the toilet bowls a brush,
Or clean the showers of their muck.
There’s just us here, and WTF?
This quarantine seems here to stay.
Tomorrow is another day.