Poems

King of the Fourth

I’d seen him at the sack races
Among familiar faces
His especially stuck out

Thought maybe egg toss,
Which he lost,
Was the chance to get his name

Shame. Coulda confirmed with the paper guy
On the sly
Who this familiar stranger is

Mrs. Hendrickson
Surely’ll introduce him
She just shook his hand

Standing in the burger line
Chatting to pass the time
They looked like long lost friends

Blending. Yet standing out.
They didn’t have to shout,
“We are not the same!”

Came time for turtle race
Which he placed
Third in second round

Found my opportunity
To introduce me
Or at least to hear his name

Maintained my calm
Oh, the sweat on my palm!
“Congrats!” I’d made my move.

“You know, I once had a dream.”
I wanted to scream.
“Thanks, for just making it come true!”

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