I like it when it peels off,
nice and easy. The truth, I mean.
When it gets all sticky,
you know we’re in a fix.
The light which stumbles ‘twixt mine eyes
possesses such a consistency,
all gluey and white, and occasionally
leaves a most unpleasant residue.
Still, I’m hesitant to reject what it reveals,
since after all, it’s most of what I know.
Well, from this point on,
we really should go steady.
Ready ourselves for the cataclysmic cough
set to upend the world’s lungs.
We’ve seen this tale unfurled before,
several times even, only now,
our muscles aren’t as chipper as they used to be.
Our skulls, not quite as accommodating to tragedy.
Strap in anyhow. Do you feel it?
Our foundations… They’re shuddering.