foolish man
“ich bin zufrieden,” i murmured
you looked at me
as if i had lost my mind and asked me,
“you are what?”
“happy. it means i am happy.”
mostly i ignore braggarts,
but when you insisted your sister spoke
german the little voice with the horns
in my head told me to show you up
so i did;
it seemed to take you by surprise—
you can always learn,
but you cannot call your words back or the way
you’ve made people feel;
always you make me feel so small and inconsequential
maybe in the grand scheme of things
i am,
but no one likes feeling that way—
once you called me a hobbit,
but the old man in line looked up at me and shook
his head insisting i was too tall which made
me smile;
no one likes to be belittled
you always seem so ready to share everything you know
there is no mystery and intrigue only
a constant monotony
which eventually gives me a headache whilst i smile
politely trying not to envision myself
hitting you over the head repeatedly with the turbo oven
because you’re nice and all
just socially awkward without the capacity to see
when one ought to hold their tongue.
Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. Her fantasy novel Blood & Magic is forthcoming from Ravenswood Publishing. You can follow her here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Linda-M-Crate