You should be running a real stage,

Oh! What a show you’d put on!

Wrapping your audiences in laughter,

You’d dazzle them with your wit,

Clever timing & pilferous bag of tricks

But instead you’re down here again

Drinking in this musicless pit,

Conducting the invisible orchestra;

Bottle in one hand, baton in the other

Casting out the symphony from your head,

Performing for an ideal audience of birds,

Rhythmic wings beating applause

Rowling in with every ring of the bell–

Like, Like, Like, Retweet & Repeat

On and on and on it goes,

Feeding ego tweet after tweet.

Inch after inch for a narcissist..

You know him better me,

“Give him one, he’ll take a mile,”

You always used to say, until

You did– Our inch was our story

Your mile is your grift, so take it;

Walk away from us and think–

Next time he comes along ask,

“Should I really drink? Should I take in

Division and vomit it without vision?

Or give frisson without derision

To everyone I see in the mirror?”

Imagine if you stop, climb out the pit,

And play truth again, a grift against grift:

Where you show him his mile,

And where he can go with it.