Masks

Nothing beats a smile on an overcast day,
the big toothy kind that seems to say
all is well...no, make that great,
but you'll never know my emotional state
behind this wretched mask.

It does no good to smile anymore
in the long, somber line at the grocery store.
Hungry people pass the milk and the cheese,
the look in their eyes leads one to believe
that evolution is at it again.

I fully expect, at the end of this year
to be told the thing that I most fear:
the pandemic was over six months ago
but it was prudent to act deliberately slow
so a few more masks could be sold.

I've been seeking a way to invest some cash
in stocks and bonds, not Wall Street trash,
but substantial, solid, risk free notes.
I've sought and received several very good quotes
and I am now a mask tycoon.

I can make you a deal on an N95,
the kind that is sure to keep you alive
through storms and floods and hurricanes,
travels on buses, in cars, on planes.
I'll make you a deal for two.

Lest you think my good fortune unethical play,
it's just the good ol' American way.
Find a way to exploit a human need
then act from proven human greed
and you'll make a ton of dough.

So, put on your mask when you're out on the town.
You can slip it off when no one's around.
Buy a case of masks, or maybe two,
it's the American thing to do.
And it pays for my villa in Spain.