CRAZY KIND

Time for an original poem. (You're welcome.)

CRAZY KIND

 

Crazy flew the coop again this month.

Uncaged, she’s well-armed with shenanigans.

And me, with my pea-shooter.

 

Controlling her is preposterous.

I'd sooner surf a cyclone.

 

For years, I’ve allowed Crazy to haunt me, unreservedly,

almost feeling sorry for her.

She’s visited countless others

but they shun her, so she sticks with me.

I’m her only friend.

 

She’s in an awful rage this time.

Her eyes are wild, unfocused. Did someone drug her?

I’m helpless and lonely—why? Do I miss her pizzazz?

I don’t know. I can’t think, because today she’s driving me crazy.

 

When I cold-shoulder Crazy, she greedily devours

first me

and then my family.

Although we run and hide from Crazy

she finds us.

She’s everywhere—like the Holy Ghost.

 

I try and be nice to her

but nice doesn’t cut it with Crazy.

She throws her head back

like a bucking stallion

laughing in my face.

 

The laughing in my face

unhinges me.

It’s my cue

to catch her off guard.

Although, she’s gargantuan, sneaky

and gets meaner if she whiffs me stalking her.

 

I must beguile.

I could never harm her.

She doesn’t hurt me intentionally.

Like the snake 

in The Farmer and the Viper fable,

it’s her nature to poison and consume.

 

It takes all my paltry human powers

to cajole Crazy.

She’s leery. A wounded stray.

I offer her treats.

Insatiable, she snatches my pleasures

retreats to a corner

noshes on my goodies

grunts in contentment.

Her claws of madness, retracted.

 

I entice her like a lover

And prepare a soft warm bunk

in the security of a cubby.

Crazy cocks her head at me.

 

“It’s alright, Crazy. You’re safe here. I’ll patrol the perimeter. You rest.”

 

Crazy loops me

but doesn’t scratch or bite this time.

She crouches on the bunk, burrowing beneath its covers.

 

“Sleep well, Crazy.”

 

She snores like a gosling.

Crazy can sleep forever—she’s Rip Van Winkle.

I shut the door on Crazy with a sigh.

 

Phew. Crazy is exhausting.

A tough round this time.

She almost got the better of me.

I still have a few tricks she doesn’t know about though.

 

So long, Crazy.

I may miss your drama

you’re an admirable foe—

but I’ve got vital work to do.

 

Fear not, Crazy

the business of life will again conjure you.