Thank you, Allan, for all your poems
We of course, unlike you, already know
That we never ever operate alone
One of us singly never attaches to your cell walls
All bloated with ego and in achievement’s thrall
Only in groups of tens, of hundreds that you call loads
Do we bounce along your airy roads
So that when one of us locates a sinus or lung
And gets to where it truly belongs
It’s always in full view of others who by consent
Applaud the other’s great viral style and ascent
Without any poetry that’s how it’s done
Been that way for millenniums
So we really don’t need your poems or press
All your struggling to divine and to guess
At our meaning, our purpose, at why we came
Allan, and the rest of you, that’s a hundred percent your game
Still, it’s nice to know you think so much on us, that some of you care
Please carry on while you still can breathe your air.