Cringe-watching

Tom Hanks made the cut
but he survived Down Under,
unscathed, slathering Vegemite
on toast -- an excess -- a cultural blunder.

In real life we want
Gwyneth Paltrow,
skull split, Matt Damon,
bereft -- a contagion
on celluloid we can imbibe.

We follow a hand on film --
foreshadowing, each passing germ --
a portent of gore: we check
our antibodies at the door
and hope to check our fear.

As Netflix and chill takes on
a new meaning, we pop
microwave popcorn,
question the test's margin
of error, crack a bottle for cheer.