Imagine the media coverage
of the Black Death, whole 
families boarded up to die inside,
the comic bring-out-your-dead carts,
cameras on location by the mass graves,
Shakespeare, the Globe closed,
Lear televised to the yokels.

Tired of YouTube, my bored daughter 
draws over and over
stick figures with straw hair 
like the thatch of the round 
red hut in a boma, 
outside whose prickly perimeter
patient lions pace.