Squawk Stalking

image borrowed from bing

Squawk Stalking

Yes,

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,

unobtainable-but-yet-

neurotically-necessary

perfection,

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.

Occasionally

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