"There's that moose lamb," they say,
as she approaches to pay.
And while standing near checkout,
she thinks, they'll kill me, no doubt.
"Don't mean to be rude," they say –
though they'll do what they may –
"but you speak English so well."
Oh my God, go to Hell.
"Can I see your hair?" someone asks.
"I mean, it just looks like a mask."
And she can't help but wonder,
if Satan had struck from down under.
"Are you not bald?" they say,
and she almost runs away,
because she just can't believe –
Oh for God's sakes!
"For God's sakes?" another jokes,
"For Allah's sakes, am I right folks?"
And she wants to scream, "Why?"
because he's that type of guy.
"Can you hear with that on?"
"Can you breathe with that on?"
"Do you sleep with that on?"
"Do you shower with that on?"
"Can I ask you a question?" she stops them just in time.
"Do you like your moose lamb...with lemon or lime?"
YOU ARE READING
The Moose Lamb
PoetryA poem I wrote in my senior year of high school for an assignment, that I thought I might share.