Short Inquisitor Poems

   The rustle of bushes means what
     a squirrel in search of a nut --

   something more sinister
     awaits the inquisitor...

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How do you breathe?
With my nose I guess
I mean, do you use your diaphragm?
Maybe
Yes or no?
I stare at my inquisitor.
I am totally unsure.
Have you had breathing lessons? He asks me.
I am amazed.
I did not know that I needed them, I tell him....

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I say there is a China teapot 
Revolving about the sun
Twixt earth n mars 

It’s much too small to see 
By telescope or all our skills
But I say it is there

I say you can’t disprove it
You may call me mad
Talking a nonsense

But if it were read of in ancient books
Instilled in the minds of children
Taught as sacred truth on Sundays

Doubting this I’d be marked eccentric 
Need help psychiatrists help
Or attentions of the Inquisitor in an earlier time...

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