The persnicketies

Persnicketies, persnicketies
Will put you ill at ease
Just like some haughty Pyrenees
That you will never please.
It always will correct itself
Though not the way you do
It's critical of everything
It hopes you take its cue.
Persnicketies, persnicketies
The Pleiades of stars
They constellate just perfectly
Correcting who you are.
Persnicketies, persnicketies
Excessively precise
For you will not quite measure up
You will not quite suffice.
Persnicketies, persnicketies
Are sometimes you and me
Precision missing everything
What you and I could be.

Denis Streeter 9/20/11