Thursday, May 10, 2012

Squawk Stalking

image borrowed from bing

Squawk Stalking
gulls have tongues;
and they laugh
at me.
Composers are fragile creatures.
We toil and stress over
every note,
every measure,
every nuance
of each phrasing mark.
This feathered visage,
in front of me,
as I strive for utter,
is not especially helpful.
He doesn’t care,
he just laughs
at me
and waits.
It’s easy to be paranoid
when one of these guys
just won’t take no
for an answer.
Everywhere I turn my gaze,
there he is , 
laughing at me,
looking at me, 
staring at me.
trying to be coy,
as if I won’t notice
he’s there; but
in his mind
I know 
he is laughing
and expecting table service;
the nerve.
Alex Shapiro

Posted over on her site Notes From the Kelp

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