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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