I'm charmed yet chagrined by this misunderstanding-- <br />As when, after a riot, my city's smashed-in stores appear all <br />Boarded up, billboarded over, with ads for wind-insurance. <br />Similarly, swimmingly, I miss the point. You too? <br /> <br />And my misunderstanding doesn't stop there, it grows--soon <br />I can't see why that sudden influx of fugitives, <br />All the world's escapees, rubbing themselves lasciviously against the <br />Berlin Wall. <br />They stick like placards to it. Like napalm. Like ads for-- <br /> <br />And me, I haven't even bought my biodegradable genitalia yet! <br />No. I was born slow, but picking up speed I run through <br />Our burnt-out streets, screaming, refusing to buy a house. <br />Finally, exasperated, the misunderstanding overtakes me, snatches <br />up <br /> <br />Handcuffs. So now here I am, found with all you others <br />Impatiently craning, in this queue that rumors out of sight up ahead <br />somewhere, <br />Clutching our cash eager to purchase whatever it is, nervous <br />As if bombs were about to practice land-reform upon our bodies, <br /> <br />Redistribution of eyes, toes, arms, here we stand. Then, some new <br />Age starts.<br /><br />Bill Knott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-misunderstanding/
