a psalm of lament for Christmas 2020

our grieving is hiding
under polished positivity
safe out of webcam range
behind shiny surface convictions
below the facades (face-aids?)
of our masks

who wants to wear them?!
not I, said the fly
on the wall in the sanctuary
we’re gonna fight
for our right
to die

to cry behind our eyes
instead of from them
bottling our own tears
lest anyone count them
laments locked away beyond facile (face-ill?)

not those of cloth or PPE
the ones so many truly need
but the fabricated emoticon laden feed
behind which it’s oh so easy to hide
and cry
and die

and the irony is slaying me
such battles over masks
it’s not like you don’t already have one in place

and the irony is slaying me
every fabric mask in reality 
a badge of honesty that we ARE afraid
it’s written all over our face

so by all means put on that one you need
just take off the ones you don’t

everyone knows you’re playing peekaboo
because everyone else is hiding too
we’re all just too polite to say so
and too afraid to show so

we need a Child
to teach us not to hide
we’re the vain emperor parading in hallucinatory robes
we’re old Ebenezer, grabbing greedily for what we cannot hold
we’re a taciturn bounty hunter with a mixed up moral code

and we need a Child
to call us out
to point the way
to touch our face

so let us celebrate
even as we isolate
even wearing PPE
we are free
for the Child is here

doff your mirage masks
drop your shattered shields
lay aside the helmet of your pride
for the Child is here

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