Rescue

They’re fucking after us,
My bathroom mirror is cluttered with colonial faces.
It’s a fright, it’s a sight, powdered chalky white.

You’ve got to rescue me
They’re stalking me, hiding in mirrors like flesh jack-o-lanterns.
It’s a tease, it’s a shock, they shriek,
“The Redcoats are coming!” like a choir of boiling lobsters.