That tone in his voice
made us want to squash him.
Ah, but he plays the piano like some kind of royalty;
a dictator of sorts, or a king with an axe.
Wish I could throw ice down the back of his shirt when he
smiles; So smug.
I won't let him get to us.
He's a gag, a wisecrack.
I bet he can't remember any of it,
Not the way we can.
That parrot never had anything much to say.