* * *

Librarians have a magic spell

A ritual that fixes all that ails you Simply ask for help, And the computer works The bug stops The book appears, like magic, on the shelf Where you swear it wasn’t before

All we have to do is come and See

So, of course, the patrons all ask me About coronavirus disease 2019

But this isn’t a poem about coronavirus 2019 This is about me, the librarian Pulling my hair out at home Holding all the stress from Casting my magic spell

I vent to my roommates (but they’re not librarians)

I stand alone and look in the mirror Saying “Can you help me? Can you help me? Fix me Fix me Fix me”