Odd Times Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Odd times
We live in a strange time a music festival and no audience
Actors playing to empty seats, football matches without
the usual horde egging on the players to score goals
the very banality of the sport tells us of lives' uselessness
our existence is useless, so we invent something
of course, it could be worse, say, war and boundaries.
We divide the world into small parcels, those with the
Most prominent patch always wants more and create mischiefs
And lies.
But for now, these childish things have to wait for a virus
Is harvesting us humans and no matter where you go
It will find and often kill you.