to W.D.F., Jr.

you sit on your artist's stool, 
sketching Mr. Roosevelt
an Egyptian at his papryus, 
the architect first dreaming
        of the pyramids and their 
treasure-laden kings
And you dance in the aisles 
with a Spaniard's manic grin
        and eyebrows John Belushi 
bequeathed to you
        for imitating Orkans and 
intimidating drama teachers
what kind of person are you, 
billy goat gruff?
big brother who would never lie, 
not to the trolls
        not to save his life
your honesty pulls you back from the 
easily-won play role
        to the basketball floor, 
an indomitable five-five
        avatar, winning out over the 
six-seven trolls
And you dance in the aisles; 
turned away from the camera
        with only a trenchcoat between you 
and the lens
standing laughingly proud.
** Please check out my book of poetry at amazon: http://amzn.to/1aoT3T6 **

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