Honk If You're Hunkering

( Since the flu is having its way with us and new variants are busily mutating as we speak, in defiance of our best science....)

Here we are hunkered down. I never expected to be hunkered. Nothing has prepared me for this. Up until ten months ago, I doubt if I’d ever used that word. But now I’ve got a hankering to hunker.

Hunkered has a dank, down-in-the-trenches feel to it. It’s low-down and dirty. You don’t just hunker, you hunker down as in sunk or dump, even slam-dunk. Kerplunk!

I’m now in my subterranean laboratory hunkered and bunkered with a bubbling cauldron looking for the elixir of life.

Monks were hunkered; they called it cloistered. Not a bad place to be during the plague with a direct line to God in one of his tantrums.

From the depths of the well you can best see the stars. Whoever said that I’ll take his word for it.

Hunkered harkens to muck and mud. Mississippi mud as in Huck Finn. It's all hunky-dory with me.

You don’t have to be a hunk to be hunkered. We’re all in this together huddled and bubbled six feet apart.

One can get in a funk hunkering; even go bonkers while bunkering but it's all for the greater good.

I only unhunker to the laundry room or the trash can. If I ever throw out our clothes or wash the garbage it’ s time to leave this orb.

Wonks do it. People from the Bronx do it. Spelunks do it. Even educated punks do it. Let’s do it. Let’s all hunker-down. Insufferable uncles when they're drunk do it. Archie Bunker does it. Folks from Chunking do it. Even genetically modified skunks do it. Let’s do it. Let’s hunker-down.