The Innisfree Poetry Journal

www.innisfreepoetry.org

by Mercedes Lawry

You Must Put It Into Words

Blah blah blah, said the dog.
The crow was not happy about it.
The cat napped.
The raccoon longed for a cigarette.
The duck refused to acknowledge anyone.
The chicken would not shut up.
Blah blah blah, the dog repeated.
Thus, the weeks rolled on without refreshment.
On certain days the wind was fierce,
creating a heightened nervousness.
For some, this was a welcome change.
It was only when the dog failed to speak
that the rest became concerned about syllables,
articulation, diction, proper nouns
and the loss of control resulting from the babel.
Finally, another stepped forward and said
blah blah blah with almost the same gusto,
though he wore a mask and could not be identified.
The sense of relief was palpable
and life went on, fervent and ironic.