During the height of the lockdown the attendant penned several faux punkrock and rap tunes to show his defiant attitude toward the virus. He imagined these efforts might themselves “go viral” (how he triumphed to imagine them “going viral”!) but they did rather stand languid and confused, was his lasting observation. Here was the best them, punk song called Emaskulated! [Appendix A has gone missing for the nonce. B and C are children’s poems: “Where Do Crumbs Come From?” & “I Have Sticky Shoes”]
Emaskulated
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Used to be such a pretty boy
Had such a great face (oo la la!)
But now I got this mask in place
And you can’t see my well chiseled jaw.
The girls used to drop dead to see this mug,
Now they just don’t give a frug
Because my mouth is boxed and crated
And I’ve been emaskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
My nose was probably my best trait
Not too wide and not too straight
But now these nostrils are in the dark
And none of the ladies care to remark.
I don’t look like a master of surgery!
I look like I got a serious injury!
I feel hot and isolated!
I feel so emaskulated!
I used to make such great remarks
And everyone thought I was some kind of wise man
But now I speak and they can’t understand
They say, heh, did you just say something, man?
They say, heh, what are you mumblin man?
(What’s that? Whachoo mumblin?)
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
Ema-ma-ma-ma-maskulated!
.i`` * ^ / . . . . . ` `~ 