by Dan Campion
The straight-faced Covid lineup stands
At Our Dear Leader’s back,
Guts twisting into ampersands
At each new bold attack
The Genius makes on truth, the facts,
Best practices, and reason,
Alert that if their brow contracts
He’ll have them tried for treason.
Then, “Thank you, Mr. President,”
One or another says,
While stepping up, by angels sent,
To part The Boss’s haze.
Amid the national agony
And general irritation,
Dear Task Force, for the grit we see:
Our pure, spaced-out ovation!