A bigot's lunch

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 09, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 09, 2017

A A A

A A A


 

tsk, he tsk’d:

“Baseless assumption. It’s a wonder they manage

to clasp sweat-slick palms around gumption.

Mightn’t you agree? The fools lead procession

street to street, the gall they pre-”

 

Yip!

 

ahh-h-h, he ah’d:

“Agree, you just might! You know, for all the metaphors

and tricks of poesy I could employ, this blight . . .

. . . this blight of mincers, I have few words,

fewer still than the silence beneath your whiskers.”

 

Yip!

 

haw, he haw’d:

“Your intellect shines true, but in sight of this crowd,

its mirthful wroth about the plaza, what say you?

Those shaggy furrows; hiding away in shadowy fluff

I can see the understanding, elucidation thus thorough.”

 

Yip!

 

hmm, he hmm’d:

“And now an owner, she arrives, whistle-faced, to take

my companion so far away, if only I could have shown her . . .

loan her? loaner? thrown her a bone? haw! I haw . . .

 

Yip!

 

yes, he yes’d:

“But no, for my beliefs, my positions, those smiles in the crowds,

they cannot get away with this! And yet, your owner offers no relief.

May there be another ti-”

 

Yip!

 

sigh, he sigh’d:

“And unto you, dear friend of no name, beholder of my own thinking,

I wish yo-”

 

Jasper!

 

Yip!

 

Yes Jasper, come, sweetie.

 

Yip!

 

jasper, he jasper’d:

“Confliction within me, a friend lost as claws grasped collar,

harrowing, clutching . . . I look in to my puddle of oswego tea.

Those men of men and their sickly ways, they fight my knowing,

they shunt my growing, they drive the Jasper doggy away.”


© Copyright 2020 Liam Andrew Baker. All rights reserved.

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