The Butcher of Queens
Anno Covidi I
We're on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.
Driving at a petty good clip.
The Driver knows the destination
He's told us where he was going all along.
We kept not listening well-enough
And we kept forgetting.
Maya Angelou got it right:
When someone shows you where they're driving?
Believe them the first time.
The Butcher is going to Tulsa
And Jacksonville and ...
And everywhere else COVID can go.
The Butcher's been driving, now.
Five years ... 24-7.
But we're drive on the BQE
While people are dying in droves at St. Elizabeth's
And in the West and the South and everywhere else?
Drips and drabs, but going strong.
The Driver told us all along.
From the beginning.
He told us where he was headed.
Too bad: Hearing Aids aren't covered by Medicare.
The Driver told us
That giving people jobs
Was a sacrifice.
He told us, too, that
"Soldiers who get captured?
They're fools."
He said it:
"I am America.
America is First.
I never get captured."
We're driving on the BQ Expressway.
The Blaupunkt brings us Jared's voice.
"Nothing is yours anymore.
Nothing is the People's
Not Of. Not By. Not For.
Get your own ventilators!
These are ours, not yours anymore."
We're on the BQE and
We pretend to be surprised.
When the Butcher of Queens is driving
And Aunt Sadie is dying alone
While we're being driven on his BQ Expressway
And we're sitting in the back seat
Together but feeling alone …
While Jared is singing on the radio
And the Bible thumpers are calling him God.
And the Black Men are dead in the Street
And the Stock Market is Drunk
And the Butcher walks about with No Mask.
The pace is picking up, now.
Heading down the East Coast.
Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland
The Carolinas, Georgia and the Sunshine State.
The Butcher is still driving.
Says he may not give up the wheel.
Demands that no one else is licensed to drive.
Coronating Alabama,
He promises to drive close to the Wall.
Breakneck speed.
Tach touches 9,000.
Tires screeching.
Passengers are scared but the Butcher still yells:
"The Wall is beautiful ..,
Realmente bastante hermosa."
Who knew the driver spoke Spanish!
"We won't hit Louisiana, again.
Got'em good the first time.
We're headin' straight for Texas and Arizona.
Never been a more beautiful wall!
Yee-ha!"
Truth is ...
Nobody coulda kept the Butcher in Queens.
Well, maybe Turtle McCurdle?
But most of us know:
His toast is buttered on both sides.
Okay. Not butter. Lard and Pork Grease!
And the Butcher drives on.
"The Northwest already got fried.
They want masks?
I'm sending masked troops up there.
Tonto and my Loan arrangers.
Wilbur, Barr and Minuchin.
They got it covered.
And that'll keep'em busy.
California, here I come."
And still, I can hear:
The Bible thumpers calling him God.
Still, you can see:
The Black Men dead in the Street ...
And in Bars and Beaches?
The Butcher's Elves dance about with No Mask
To the Tune of Evagrius Ponticus' Seven Deadly Sins
Of Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Guttony and Sloth.
And, still, the Butcher of Queens remains at large.
