Only one

Tying up the posts by the midnight pan
I banned the swimming, the fishing boats
And swam with the sinners by the midnight sand
The bells were swinging, the bees were singing
There was nothing left to do but join the chorus
So I put on my rose flaked shirt
Dressed my trousers as Sam
Put on my overcoat
Painted up a song
Of gun whales and sheeping gas
But it was retarded so they made me leave
Saying I was unfit for the political present
Needing a practical understanding
The gun whales shook their heads
The sheeping gas let out a wail
The fleas jumped just to be thrifty
And the song ended before the mime could begin
There was nothing in the singing
Just some political unrest
That no one could explain to me
At least to my satisfaction
Perhaps because I called them stupid
The monkeys jumped up all excited
And they hadn't even entered the narrative
Tongue tied and twisted as pistols
There was nothing in the marination
Except some coronation
Bent sideways with the sheeping gas
The sun had warmed them it was coming
But they turned off the water with their two fisted fleas
Bundled in overcoats the size of stockings
Just behind the screens and the lathes
Wondering if it was time for them
But it wasn't
So they turned off the sun
Put the tools away
Laid them in a manger
Called them Jesus
And loaded them in some star overhead
Hoping theology would be enough
But also down to earth enough to keep trying
So they let the cat box out
Don't know who or why
The tins were making an awful racket
Some tennis ball posing as a fly swatter
I couldn't get enough
So I put on my sweater and slipped through the loops
The bothers were backwards so I let out the seems
But no one could be bothered
And the ants kept whining that there was no one to play
I could only think of one
Only one.

Denis Streeter   8/17/12