Mario Micallef ’22
The red T
Is where I be.
Plan is: meet, eat meat, maybe a treat?
The screech & the voice, I stand for Kendall Street.
Oh, no. The handle strap.
It hit my eyeball, oh crap.
I’ve got the plague; I’ve got it all now. All in my eye.
Diseases unknown to man, course through my eye.
Exit the linear disease coaster.
Is there any point now?
My two masks, now useless like my unplugged toaster.
99.99% germ murderer bottle begs to attack my eye now.
Stay trapped inside for four days until CVS asks,
“Have you experienced any of these symptoms?”
No, but yes, but no; just let me take the asymptomatics
Test. I can’t stop touching it. I thought shampoo
Would do. It didn’t do.
Fate is sealed; damn the strap. But I wear the masks.
Fear the T strap. I’ve felt its horrors.
Fear the result, it’s been 24 hours.
What’s this? No plague? How could it be?
“Tis because of me.”
And who are you?
“I am the man, I lick T straps with my 99.99% germ murderer tongue.
Never fear. Grab and stand with confidence.”