short on face masks,
our inner freaks
dressed up for
the occasion
—of no occasion—
no real holiday at all. . .
—came none
—came masses
costumed as
Munch’s Scream, as
American Hoarder, as
Motor Mouth Rehash
& Corporate Cold Shoulder
running riot
virtually the same
—quick like bunnies—
—not at all—
despite some imbalance of hands clasped to cheeks. . .
despite the difficulties talking in transit presented. . .
despite the poorly timed dismissal of underlings
—affront missing immediate audience. . .
descending on approved Orwellian destinations
by the meted thousand
—like herded sheep—
we dumped pets
selectively “concerned”
(woefully ignorant)
invested in
—toilet paper—
the dog-eat-dog mentality pervasive
(all regal beagles
enthroned for the foreseeable future)
collected eggs
by the dozens,
by dearth of farmhands
(that nascent next)
and ammo, too
—LOTs and LOTs of ammo
(a new slant on a rising curve)
vigilant about those 6 feet
—away!
—and under!
with you
(from me)
papering our own abodes
—behind electric fence—
egging our own visages
—behind screened Windows, bitmapped & blueprinted—
loading our own rifles
—behind dwindling rights—
sugaring our own tanks
(with stored supplies)
behind untanked
gas
—unmasked—
since face masks
were in such short supply. . .
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