American Masks (a poem)

What terror hides behind manicured grass

and lush flower beds? Outside the office complex,

the manager scolds us for cigarette smoking.

Months later, his cold stare is in a newspaper for

unspeakable crime. Am I too naïve to think the masks

we wear are true windows into our souls?

(Photo by John Noonan on Unsplash)

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3 responses to “American Masks (a poem)”

  1. Nice work! Masks present some interesting food for thought. We hide behind them figuratively, yet now we are wearing them literally. I wrote a “chaiku” once that resonates with your words. I will try to find it and post.

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