Pencil
(Chasing a thought)
By Tatiana Pahlen

A raging thought is banging inside my head.
I'm sharpening a pencil
In an urge to pin it down;
But this scoundrel speeds away like a hare,
Howling for help and alarming every soul in town.

I'm running behind it towards Hudson Street,
Aiming my dart high at the puckish punk.
Kicking my heels, I slip on fresh dog shit;
My rascal cracks up from mirth before he submits,
Beaten like an obedient monk.

All of a sudden, he offers a hug.
Reaching forward
I notice my pencil is gone;
I turn about to find a new prank –
He writes my name on his comments filthy and dumb;
Now, I'm raging and banging inside his knuckle-skull.

July 29, 2002

© 2002 Tatianyc. All Rights Reserved.