5 Yellow Stars
I used to study faces.
Now I gaze at masks and bandanas.
Can't tell if they're beautiful or plain
cloak the sane or madmen.
Since this new age plague began...
gaits seem to have a bit more verve.
Perhaps more panic and purpose...
My, how things have changed.
In such a short time we're all starting to look
like old-school crips and bloods
and Muslim women...
The jokes are all on us.
There's an uneasy feeling
must be the buds of oppression... settling in.
Five yellow stars dipped in red.
Sprouting deep in the gut
dark black buds so very relentless.
What will the summer heat bring?
Even less freedom, more chains.
The death of millions via an invisible assassin.
There are so many masks and masks of death and dirt-cheap gas.
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