Taco Bell in the Time of Coronavirus

On my thirty-sixth birthday
I ordered fifty seven dollars of Taco Bell.
It just felt right
in a time where everything
felt so wrong.
We sat six feet apart.
But I was on another planet.
One where I be hugged.
Take a photo with our sweaty
good time, drunk-flushed cheeks
pressed together.
Share a Tripalupa (because
if anything is meant to be shared
it’s that).
It just felt so wrong
at a time when it should’ve
felt so right.


Amanda Gibson is a writer and a college instructor who counts Taco Bell, gin, her family (husband, two children, one dog, and four ducks), Henry Cavill, and semicolons among her top five favorite things (but not in that particular order, always). Follow her on Twitter @lemonbabyco.

Categories: Terror Taco Tuesday

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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