573. LEARNING THE MULE

LEARNING THE MULE
(look it up in the Temple)
You came into town on a crippled ass,
one walking sideways, cross-eyed, and swaying
while braying, bumping into all manner of things.
Everyone laughed, and then you fell off.
The townsfolk, unzippered, swore they'd
have their way with you - as their Bible
foretold. I was then a scribe, writing
all this down. Ignorant people amass
ignorant things, and this was, most
certainly, a sight to behold.
-
Behind the lemon tree, a girl was
playing sticks - longer straws for
gain, smaller twigs for loss; and a few
pebbles for use to easily keep score.
I wondered why I was always losing.
I realized only later she was a cheat.
-
The rabble sure can talk. Ten million
words a minute and not a damn thing
said. The fellow with the stern blue
eyes - every word he spoke was brutal
and insincere. I found myself hating him,
and wondered if that was right. Nothing
really, just the guilt-heavy sort of upbringing
I'd had. I'm sure he could have not cared less.
-
The Realm of Barbelo (in case you hadn't
noticed) is still alive and well.