Poetry of Issue #8        Page 81

DID HE CARE WHAT THEY THOUGHT?

Snobs sneered when he won the coveted prize.
They protested his selection as a god.

A god not of protest. Of literature.
Washed up, a beach corpse, they said. A mere singer!

More than a singer, more than a beach corpse.
His fans pleased when the committee chose him.

Pleased when he failed to show for the prize.
Hungry cats, the hoity-toity marched, complained.

I don’t like hoity-toity. They march too much.
They wanted a novelist or French poet.

A novelist or French poet didn’t win.
The singer stayed silent, except to sing songs.

The singer sang songs of power and silence.
No one saw him sneer when he won the prize.

  David Spicer