I recommend you wear a mask… well, recommend’s too strong a word:
Your choice to wear or not. I won’t, since it would make me look absurd.
A picture of me in a mask is something that will not be seen,
Except, perhaps, for Mardi Gras – and then, of course, on Halloween.
If heads of state come to the Oval Office, with me in a cloak,
That adds to the impression they already hold: that I’m a joke.
When all that they are seeing is my orange mop and panicked eyes,
They’ll pooh-pooh my entreaties as I beg them to hand-sanitize.
But if I chose to wear a mask, I’d wrap a scarf around my head.
Three times encircling nose and mouth would be enough to stop the spread.
And if I didn’t have a scarf, I don’t think that there’s any harm in
Looking like a mummy, making use of one full roll of Charmin.
Some say my response to this pandemic: marked by rank disorder.
That’s not true at all; while you weren’t looking, I shut down the border.
Won’t let an infected man, or juvenile, or lady in:
Fat chance if you’re Hispanic. (Odds improve if you’re Canadian.)
Don’t point out how I contradict myself; you’ll get a strong denial.
(Also – William Barr would like to put on hold your right to trial.)
A mask serves several purposes: protection; also to conceal
The truth – which the reluctance to accept is my Achilles’ heel.
The Trump Poems 