Dudes. Like dig this:
[Pensive bongo trill.]
A trifling mouse from a shelf where on breakfast it
dined,
Interrupted my thoughts and frankly
Opined.
“It looks that you’re angry,” it factually
Said,
Half-hidden nearby while Shaw’s work
I read.
Distractedly scanning the words of Bernie
Shaw,
I hoped to digest events lodged in my
Craw.
I was purple-veined, red-faced, and troubled,
Indeed,
So I paused to let wee mouse, should it care to,
Proceed.
What dwarf mouse next asked set me
Somewhat aback,
“What is it that’s stuffed your shorts
Up your crack?
Likely something huge or a trifle, not something
Between-ish.
What is it that troubles you, what makes your gills
Greenish?”
[Bongo rimshot.]
It’s like weird, but I talked to Dude Mouse, man”
[Pause. Pensive bongo trill]
“It’s the election, the one that just
Yesterday passed,
That rubs me raw, has me worried –
Harassed.
The candidates, from a distance, they rallied their
Dudes.
Shocker of shockers the outcome – was rudest of
Rudes.”
“See, was two wooly politicos, wrapped-up in that
Fight,
Who ran for the position, one hard left, the other cruel
right.
Some poor fool got himself trapped slap in
The middle
By mistake, wasn’t running, nope, and that there’s
The riddle.”
“Was an oft-scrawled name on the blank ballot
Space.
The fool found himself winning the ballot box
Race.
Finds he’s a creature – the most reprehensible
Kind,
A politician, no longer a fool who just spoke his
mind.”
[Bongo rimshot.]
Dude Mouse, man, he didn’t hang it up.
[Pause. Pensive bongo trill.]
“Ah!” mused tiny mouse, “the silent ones
have spoken.
The steely grip of left and right at last
are broken.
Seems that fool is now by duty
Bound,
To worry and struggle, to turn things
Around.”
(I know that fool, his motives, and feelings
Too well.
Before embracing this test, he’d rather be living
In hell.
Even now it’s his thinking a challenge to
Mount.
He seriously considering demanding
Recount.)
Short mouse resumed, “This fool must dig deep, face up to this
Test.
No more crossing his fingers with frail hopes for the
Best.
No more waiting, wishing maelstroms to
Pass.
This fool must man-up and get off of his
Ass.”
[Lively bongo rimshot.]
I reefed a cog, man! Did it wrong.
[Pause. Pensive bongo trill.]
I hurled bookbound George ‘cross the
Room,
Watched him bruise the shelf loudly,
Ka-boom!
A heavy glass charger took aim for the
floor
Where spare mouse touched down a brief instant
Before.
That snip of mouse like a cat neatly
Survived.
But paid for my deed when the charger
Arrived.
The charger’s thud roughly splattered his
Head.
Yes, I watched thumbnail mouse become suddenly quite
Dead.
While under my boots, shattered charger glass
Tinkled,
I found G B Shaw, just one page of him
Wrinkled.
Perplexed, Shaw in hand, I couldn’t
Presume
To know where I’d left-off and thus to
Resume.
[Retardando bongo rimshot.]
[Bongo silence.]
© spwilcenski 2023
Exposed to readers by spwilcenwrites in “Bongo Rimshot – April 11, 2023“
Ramblings 