by | Sep 4, 2007 | Poetry | 0 comments

“Oh, rhubarb!” cried the surly man
As back he stood to glare.
Once more, the thing was not quite right
“That piece should not go there.”
A hatred filled his weary heart.
He felt his temples tighten.
He snarled his worst, most fearsome curse
And thought the thing to frighten.
His foe inert and fearless stood
In dumb insubordination,
Revelling – or so it seemed
In the human’s degradation.
A woman passed, then checked her pace
And leaning rearward, pondered.
It seemed to her the job was done,
Had not that one piece wandered.
Reaching forth, she pulled it out,
Then pushed it in once more,
As dreadfully, the man looked on
Offended to the core!


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