Disintegration of the Muse

Scarecrow

I cannot attack you
Nor would I desire to
So I built a scarecrow to burn.
He tells me all the right things,
In all the wrong ways.
And his death comes guilt-free.

He is my exoneration.
He babbles rules and litigation
He dances and mocks when I sneeze
His fragile limbs blow in the breeze.

I bow and hand him scepter and crown
But he simply turns around,
And hands his scepter back at me
And bears his teeth quite hastily

He says I didn’t hand it quite right
And that I must be more polite
When in the face of royalty
“For it is only proper, you see.”

I bow right back and tilt my head,
“I shall do as your majesty has said,”
I hand it back like a swollen prince,
With delicate posture and subtle hints

He first accepts it gracefully
But then he turns his wrath on me
He says the kitchen has a speck
I promise to immediately check

I wipe the spot with a paper towel
He says a dishcloth would be less foul
I pull out the dishcloth in its place
He says that this one’s for my face

The one for dishes is in the back
So I grab a stepladder to reach the stack
He asks why I am doing that?
That stepladder is for getting hats.

The stepladder for dishes is in the shed
So I wipe some sweat from off my head
I grab the ladder and approach the door
He says, “What are you waiting for?”

“And don’t forget the ladder is dirty.”
So I grab a hose in a hurry
I give it a good quick clean rinse
It nearly drives the scarecrow to fits

He says a rinse is not enough
He says that there’s still dirt and grime
He says the ladder needs to be dried
He says the speck is still there

Since I live in my master’s house
I cannot say a word
For all is deserved
But a scarecrow I can burn

He disparages my choice of matches
As straw pokes through from under his patches
He says my kindling’s not quite dry
And that the way I’m making him lie

Makes for an inefficient fire
Than most would desire
For once I appreciate his tips
And position the fire under his hips

He says I should move him more
But it’s appropriate for what I’m using it for
I strike the match nearby his legs
And soon he’s consumed by the blaze.

I toss in the scepter and crown
And watch as they also burn down
As it burns with the rest
The scarecrows says I passed the test

I nod and say it’s for the best.