My Latest Local Farce

My latest local farce, oh, what a schmooze! oily words from his thick lips fairly ooze. Behind my back, he must think I’m a hick, ducking and dodging him doesn’t quite stick. He’ll pop out of nowhere, but I don’t drool, not when he treats me like somebody’s fool. I want to purge my mem'ry of his muck. He’s not really rude, just a roguish puck or maybe simply an ill-behaved imp. He’s like a certain, curious chimp. He chatters away; I skip past his teeth to hear what is the bewitching beneath - affections which are a weak, vain attempt to air his supercilious contempt. written May 10, 2017