The Death Of A Toad (Take N)

RE-REWORKED THIS OLD sonnet for this guy who breathes through the skin. Two viruses together: COVID 19 and systemic racism.

The Toad’s Elegy

What a season this is to be described:

the air is toxic, and noose poles arrive.

Shall I stay at home, as dumb as a fish

copped out because the sun air fries the skin,

no donned N95 to mask its hiss

exhaling voodoo that poisons the rain?

Let at breakneck speed the deluge run wide,

slay a sun breached by the mirroring tide,

genuflect before the crown, this burnt flood,

detox amphibious hearts fed with foul blood.

I shall wear this voice until it is gone,

hip hop on the death of a jaundiced sun.

I shall wear this hide that gifts me with breath,
kill with warts those viruses from the wreath.