Mirror Mirror: on written wall


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


—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




since face masks

were in such short supply. . .

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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