Bryce Angell is a cowboy poet. Angell was raised on a farm/ranch in the St. Anthony, Idaho area with approximately 75 head of horses. Horses remain an important part of Angell’s life.

Angell shares his poetry with Cache Valley Daily every Friday.

I wear my Covid mask to cover up my nasal spray.  This doggone, dang pandemic is a nuisance, you might say.

But one thing I’ve discovered while I’m wearin’ this here mask.  My friends don’t shy away.  For sure a monumental task.

We carry on our conversations standin’ right up close.  No more a backin’ up and lookin’ like they’re comatose.

It’s nice to have a friend or two I don’t put half to death, from breathin’ in the toxic air of horrible bad breath.

This blasted mask protects me from a two-week quarantine.  But now I’m breathin’ fumes worse than the hottest June latrine.

I find myself a gaggin’ while I’m breathin’ in my air.  It’s enough to drive you crazy.  Puts a body in despair.

Imagine all the germs I manufacture by myself.  Heck, I accidentally dropped my mask.  It crawled off by itself.

So, I made a life’s decision.  Where it came from heaven knows.  I’d drive on down to Merkle’s.  No more halitosis woes.

I was standing at the counter with a basket full of pills.  I’d grabbed a jug of Listerine, a cure for bad breath ills.

Well, the busy-body clerk yelled out, “You drinkin’ this here stuff?”  So, I blew her one long terrible, intoxicatin’ puff.

I swear her eyes glazed over.  She was dizzy in the head.  I tossed her Twenty, ran like #@%% before she ended dead.

Now my breath is minty.  I can breathe behind my shield.  I’m toutin’ my discovery.  Thank heaven I’ve been healed!

So, if you’re strugglin’ with your mask.  Please take my words to heart.  A bottle full of garglin’might just be your place to start.

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