After This (COVID)

Hard to believe that this

is May these days where we

listen ferociously to Dr. F. trying to

understand what Over means knowing

there will be an After All This

knowing there will be summer and we

who are visibly fraying  now

favorite essay this week called Fuck the Bread

the Bread is Over Peter said yesterday

your creativity isn’t tied to what we eat

and I skipped my Learn Something Online

Class because I don’t have to learn something

new don’t have to make bread ever don’t have

to print out Ottolenghi’s recipes in this week’s New Yorker

don’t have to listen to Rachel Maddow every single night.

Today  I could just walk  to 68th Street to my favorite fruit vendor

and buy blueberries and blackberries and then eat

them on a park bench sufficiently distanced from strangers

and maybe listen to an audio book and pretend without

knowing for absolutely sure that life will be normal soon.




Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.


  1. I’ve been enjoying all of your recent poems but this one is a keeper. I just printed it out to read and reread. Thanks!

  2. May I have permission to read your poems at a call in volunteer effort by the Woodstock Jewish Congregation….five minutes person limit…no money for you, me or the shul. But I will mention your website.

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