March 22, 2011
Told by an idiot
There will always be one; thick glasses
squinting into unfriendly sun of the lovely,
ginger hair sprouting like the devil’s alfalfa
or yellow snakes of teeth dancing from mouth
to a crooked unheard tune. The sporty ones
will always tease, with their effortless jumps,
and flicks of grace, the laurel of the popular
a crown to their cruel, unearned joys.
And at the edge, noticing or feeling,
there’ll still be the quiet, lonely ones,
slipping under the radar with their
secret books and scuba words.