Oh why must you flaunt and yet again <br />your proclaimed divisions with others <br />like some badge of honour? <br /> <br />And yes, I could not note your <br />stirring, stirring, stirring, <br />if I did not see it in myself… <br /> <br />Creating this dolls’ theatre in our mind, <br />allotting all the minor parts <br />to those we think we know, <br />reserving to ourselves <br />the role of the protagonist, <br /> <br />and the dramatist as well: <br />keeping the action going, <br />sudden feuds and gracious relinquishing, <br />enemies inflated, lovers too, <br />claims and counterclaims, <br />abuse poured on abuse, <br />fragile allegiances made and unmade, <br />clowns and ghosts and retributions, <br />heroes and villains in quick costume change, <br />larger than life creations empty of heart or mind, <br />like some gaudy set of children’s shaped balloons; <br /> <br />if you had written it, but with more grace, <br />we might applaud it; but you pretend <br />to live it, foist this empty play upon us; <br />it is untimely; we yawn, hate, doze, <br />and carefully tipping up our seats, <br />leave your theatre quietly and early, <br />treading the carpeted aisle, <br />outside the clattered exit doors <br />breathing the fresh air of actuality, <br />happy to rediscover life. <br /> <br />If this gaudy fool’s cap fits, <br />then wear it, or forswear it; <br />mine’s there, hanging on the peg.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0012-s-t-i-r-r-e-r/
