poem

Masks

We all should wear the mask,

To filter the things we cannot see.

Not so much to keep things out

But to corral what tries to flee.

I aim to protect others from foul exhalation.

I try to be a good citizen,

Averse to the idea of contaminating others;

We are all responsible for our own pollution.

I am running my errands under the guise of cloth;

Grocery store, dry cleaners, gas station,

You can only see my eyes.

This furtive silence is a new banditry,

Passing coins and cards under Plexiglas.

I enjoy not being seen in plain sight.

The dead air trapped in front of my face

Is warm fetid discomfort, but mine alone.

Anonymous suffering is perhaps a way to atone.

We can always kneel and pray for expiation

But that’s not the same as forgiveness

Which is too personal, too intimate;

Usually requires an element of touch

And inevitably ends in a kiss.

But I’ve pinched the wire down

Over the bridge of my nose

And centered the mask over my lips.

5/22/20