Hey, Pick Me!

 

The emotions don’t play tag - they say 

you’re ‘it’ regardless what you’d claimed 

were extenuations - those bits of ‘fluff’ 

aren’t permits for an excuse is their elegy; 

so get on with it - 

And you do, cursing all & sundry quietly - 

it won’t legitimate disintegration of poise 

or savoir faire - but there’s only you 

anyway, the rest disappeared; funny 

that, & trying to understand’s useless 

Then there are contortions necessary 

to be in tune with a left-handed purview 

of a clockwise regime while affixing the 

walls onto an enclosure of incarceration 

you couldn't fit into anyway 

If there’s irony in it you’d need be 

Swedish - or an IKEA devotee, to get the 

right drift - possibly with counterclockwise 

bias implanted on icon 17 of version 9 

depicted in situ pages 8 thru 11 

And yet sweat raised seems to tolerate 

this ridiculousness without missing a beat, 

and in the end, there stands the proud 

beast just like you first saw on display - 

the one saying, hey, pick me - 

© 23 May 2017, I. D. Carswell