To prove we haven’t given up,
We order things online
Since objects meant for future use
Imply that we are fine.
A sweet dessert, a case of beer
Or scotch or gin or wine
Can elevate our kitchen meals
To ones at which we dine.
Some nitrile gloves, a spiffy mask
Of chic and cool design
Remind us that to safety
While in style we can incline.
A buzzing insect’s gotten in?
To Amazon, assign
The sending of a swatter
So that fly will toe the line.
For every penny that we spend
Is proof that we still pine
For a future that our purchases
May somehow thus define.
Categories:
nitrile, future,
Form: Rhyme
I don’t go into any stores
But heard that when I do
A mask may not be good enough,
Alas, to walk on through.
I’ll need a pair of Nitrile gloves
Before I head inside.
Without them, gaining entry
Might quite simply be denied.
Obediently, I perused
Varieties on screen
In blue or black or purple –
You must know the ones I mean.
The prices varied, not a one
With shipping that was free,
Yet that’s the way things go if I want
Gloves they’ll send to me.
The order’s placed and though the timing
Isn’t opportune,
I might be somewhat braver when
They get to me in June.
Categories:
nitrile, health,
Form: Rhyme