Misunderstood
We are not amused
By the way you refuse
To laugh more quietly,
Stop talking back,
Accept our labels
For what you lack.
We will have no more
Idolizing ambitious bovines
Who insist on leaping
Over celestial signs.
Nor can we accept
the way you arrive
Signaling merrily
With lighthearted chimes.
Too often your p’s and q’s
Don’t pass the test
And your consumption
Of salt is alarming at best.
What’s more, you never keep
the black bird in sight,
when you finally show up you sing
of far green slopes and crimson night.
There’s nothing about you
That we can understand
So you’re on your own now.
Good luck in never-never land.
Even though I am not sure what this *means*, you create a world here. You pull off the sing-song but not too sing-sing very well, in a way to let us know you are serious. Especially liked "of far green slopes and crimson night"!
ReplyDeleteSounds like the song of a misfit.
ReplyDeleteI hear a song of rejection, of separation for someone unwilling to march in formation. By what is not said, the object of the poem strikes me as someone wholly interesting and worth knowing?
ReplyDeleteWell done for the prompt.
ReplyDeletePamela