Now, suddenly, celebutante!

Reviewed by new attentive throngs

As I, alone, patrol these streets

Strange adulation stalks my path

A chorus of the sweetest speech

Sings out from social distancing

Traverses metres, one, then two

To touch both of my (blushing) ears:

Look sharp! Nice boots! Love-LOVE your skirt!

Ciao Bella! (from some sports-car dude,

Top down, big bright-white smile full-beam)

What a great hat! (plus sweet beret!)

We have great taste (from fashion twin)

You look GOOD in that dress (crosswalk,

Paused car, awaiting traffic light)

Et cetera, et cetera.

And comments don't come just from men

(More usual, in public sphere)

It's multi-gendered feedback now

(On trend for diverse neighbourhoods

But wasn't like that 'til this year)

These days, though walking by myself,

Out, grocery-bound, I'm not alone . . .

Am squired now — by dulcet chat.

The nectar-sweet words keep on flowing

Alongside same old extra me

In same old clothes — all extra old

(With stores closed tight, or just ajar

In eerie/arcane no-browse modes

Have basically bought nothing new

Which basically is fine for me

Un-fashionista, dull/demure)

My compliment responses range:

from squeaky thanks! — or oh, thank you

To right backatcha! — and you too

Even, once, that makes my day

Plus silent/plucky thumbs-up signs

(Saluted twice, I think, or thrice?j

Depends, of course, on circumstance

Of venue, speaker, and the like

Zero complaint, no problem here,

No issue with . . . phenomenon

Just wonder why — or, more, why now

No doubt the reason's dark and sad

(Since everything is sad and dark)

Covidian, corrupt, diseased

Some dire 2020 thing

New aspect of this 'after time'

Perhaps the cause is I'm not masked

When outside, walking, and maybe

With so so many masked folk out

Subconscious lust for naked faces

Prompts honeyed flow of praiseful words

From people's yards, from drivers' cars,

From far sides of the autumn streets

Provoking known reward of voice

With bonus human smile, much prized

Since first soft days of infancy,

As tests confirm — it's hungered for

Loved even in emoticons

But smile emojis may not be

Full substitutes for 3-d mouths

The subtler hues of living flesh

The lips, cheeks, dimples, all that jazz

Cause could be sadder, simpler still

Straight-up, old-fashioned loneliness

Urges for congress, even brief

To send out sound and get sound back

Safely, beyond vile droplets' reach

Secured connection, always fleeting

Distanced too, with moist source leaving

While responding, contact confirmed.

Just hoping it's not option three:

Hope I'm not sending plaintive cry

(Sub-audible, yet somehow sensed?)

Or, pheromone of neediness?

A chimp-style call of look-at-me?

A vibe of stomping love-me-do?

That forces strangers to speak up

Heap praise upon my purple pants!