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.