...
I shall not sigh (prim inner sigh instead)
I shall not tut tut (I am well above that!)
not turn around, not shake my sage head, not
yield to Outrage.
Oh... but... who in Beelzebub's name gave that little imp
rice
crackers?
And isn't the little sprite enjoying himself!
Each cracker fisted in a chubby, clammy clutch
then brought drawn close
as a cockatoo claws
a treat
to a snipping beak.
He nibbles - critch, critch, critch
and gouges - crounch, crounch, crounch
with infernal, juvenile-piranha
teeth.
I will not scream.
I will not pounce.
I shall sit -
stony... sedate... be dignified... sympathetic...
recall laudable Christian platitudes,
oh... but...
critch, crounch, critch, crounch, craaaaark goes the villain
and whizzzzz go the tumblers round
for the handle is wrenched,
wild and sudden
and my mind, a possessed pokie
spins crazy, kaleido-round:
Will I? - Won't I?
Will I? - Won't I?
Will I? - Won't I?
W.....?
[Type text]
