Some Testy Words

Regards to all my temporary fans,
Discovering resistance to the State,
Pretending that I’m everything they hate
And nothing meaningful. They make new plans,
Demand permission to publish the banns
In every district. Unwilling to wait,
They cry the news for twenty-nine days straight,
Announcing it from loudspeakers on vans.

At one time, when my audience was small,
I joked about how soon I’d be The Bomb,
And nobody laughed much, except my Mom,
Who said she read the writing on the wall:
There were some testy words about the Fall
And she said, “Chill. Relax. Try more aplomb.”