Reasons for Avoiding Parades

I prop my

mouth up

lifting dewlaps

I cram teeth into corners

I auto-tune screams

until

the blood-curdling sounds like

lyrical laughter

–no mean trick–

and my far away eyes

grow more distant by the day

masquerading as de rigueur

disinterest

–I’m not taking a selfie after all!

all true expression

dead

(along

with him)

farther than 6 feet under

–gone

. . . .disintegrated. . . .

replaced by a

“that’s acceptable”

caricature

“that’ll do pig”

in peep’s clothing

in a society

where no one

likes a

grumpy Gus, least of all…Gus

and when no one

loves

— in turn

no one is loved

and all that remains is this race to the finish line

festooned in

cheese mirage

surrounded by vermin

(lab and pet)

and a few less nippy rats, as well

from cubby hole

to content

to chaos

to coffin

–where at last

the make believe

ceases,

the guns stop echoing

the crowd stops surging

and fear founded

and faced

–dies.