Echolocation

In mid flight I hear you
Screeching frequencies like static
Tuning in to hear the tale
Of how death could not hold you close

I watched you with baited breath
Wheeled to and from the theatre
Escorted in paper masks
And full sanitary regalia

Monitored via closed circuit
The coding behind the program
Lines
and lines
and symbols
Ten-thousand characters
Were built
By ten human hands

And ninety three fingers.

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