Playacting

 

We were masked all along, and no one more

than those who claimed to have nothing to hide.

Masks conceal, masks reveal — you can’t ignore

the ones behind the mask, the ones inside

who look like bandits, surgeons, divas — dandies

of every stripe. But we love our costumes!

Even when the show is over, stagehands

striking the set, we’re still in the green room,

waiting for the curtain to rise. We swear —

this time will be different. We’ll earn our applause —

after all, we’re exceptional. Who cares

if the critics pan our greatness? Because —

a word we hardly use. Ushers are marking

every other seat. The house is dark.

 

 

© Michael Fleming

Brattleboro, Vermont

July 2020

 

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