Scribblings

Rootin' Tootin' Toni

Rootin' tootin' Toni's

The scourge of the neighborhood.

Window smasher, knickknack king

With his skinny bony sniper sling.

Freckle pale-faced beneath filthy

Mud and mucus, scars of nettle shrubs.

Kester kicking and poison ivy stings.

He gets up to all kinds of naughty things.

THEY (for I's are spineless)

Never know what to do,

(Though to hear them they seem so clever)

If only they had a foot on a different shoe.

Toni shrugs and picks his nose

Extracting strings of long green goo.

He has a taste and wipes the rest

On his punk rock neon tattoo.

Rootin' tootin' Toni

Has an arsenal of mass mischief

Whoopee cushions, bombs of stink

And itching powder beneath the kitchen sink.

He sets his eyes on a rich kid's pony

Godfather-style cattle rustle thief.

Although his plans are full of kinks

Like horseshoe skates to sneak slide across an indoor hockey rink.

THEY (for I's are spineless)

Never know what to do

(Though to hear them they seem so clever)

If only they had a foot on a different shoe.

Toni shrugs and picks his nose

Extracting strings of long green goo.

He has a taste and wipes the rest

On his punk rock neon tattoo.

"I blame the parents" THEY condescend.

"not from here, talking funny, not in my day"

Gobs a running but no love do they lend

For Rootin' Tootin' Toni, rebel without a friend.

"Lazy good for nothing. He'll come to a bad end."

There's so much head-shaking but no one finds a way

To ask the boy how he went astray.

But luckily for him and THEM, there's help around the bend

THEY (for I's are spineless)

Never know what to do,

(though to hear them they seem so clever)

If only they had a foot on a different shoe.

Toni shrugs and picks his nose

Extracting strings of long green goo.

He has a taste and wipes the rest

On his punk rock neon tattoo.

That name blows in on honey-scented air.

A new teacher Ms. Empathy, first name Claire.

Rootin' tootin' Toni leaves her a firecracker surprize

Enough to scare, but not to cause her demise.

As Toni waits, his nerves all stressed

Waiting for that jump scare bomb's sweet caress,

The smoke to clear, shrill voice a flame

Those ratty classmates pointing fingers of blame.

But wait! What's this? There's not even a hiss

No spark or boom or mushroom cloud kiss

Just the normal dreary by rote drone

That Toni's mind cannot yet control.

"Toni, could you come to see me please?"

Toni walked to the desk no longer much at ease.

Without a lecture, scalding fit or rave, perfectly calmly

She places the bomb (found and defused) gently in his palm.

"It wasn't me miss" Toni began

"Really? It seemed like such a good plan"

Tickled pink, high as a kite

(For THEY only made snide little slights.)

Toni felt different, given his due

Telling him he'd done well was something new

He returned to his place at his table

Feeling as though he'd jumped out of a fable.

Over the next few weeks, things got much better,

As Ms. Empathy guided him through the three Rs.

He even noticed only one began with that letter.

Claire explained things that left him in awe.

That some Indians didn't use paper, they just washed their bums.

How to eat and cook the right kinds of plates.

That we can weigh the Earth just using sums.

And THEY were afraid and not full of hate.

Whoopee cushion attacks became less frequent.

Toni makes more friends, who aren't so bad.

THEY notice he's not such a crazy delinquent

Toni notices the world doesn't make him feel so mad.

We are much better working together.

(though some of us aren't very clever)

Dipping our feet into another's shoes

Helps us to see what we must do.

Toni still shrugs and picks his nose

Extracting strings of green goo,

Has a taste and wipes the rest

On his neon punk rock tattoo.

But he loves and is loved

And is a brother to all.

There to help if you suffer a fall,

Or lend you some itching powder for somebody's gloves.