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Ask Me Again

I’ve enjoyed writing for many years. I'm dedicating more time to the craft in my retirement days.

“Ask me again,” he said

And I could feel my face turning red

“Asked and answered, young friend,

I see no need to ask you again.”

“Oh, please, woncha please?” so quick came the plea

Then puppy dog eyes looked back up at me

ask-me-again

“I’ve already asked you

All day and all night,

In hopes every time that each just might

Be the very.

Last.

Go.

But no…”

So not this time

I’m too smart for that

I’ll not be asking

You young little brat

That same old

Same old

Tired question

To hear in response

The affected expression

It makes me cross

When the answer’s the same

I’ve grown so weary

Of this young children’s game

“Oh, but I promise

I truly and surely do

This time it’s for real

I’m not fibbing to you!

I’ll answer the query

Then be done with it

And move on otherwise

With my engaging young wit

Do me this last

One favor, oh please

If it matters at all

I could beg on my knees!”

I paused for a moment

I’m such an old fool

Soft in the heart

And fond of the rule

The one of gold, you know

It informs and guides interaction

Its adherence always brings

Participant satisfaction

So I went there once more

To that trusty old tenet

Held back a deep breath

Hoped I wouldn’t regret it

“No, no, my young lad

Not necessary is that

Not down on the floor

Like a common housecat

Instead let me gaze

Into your eye socket beads

To see if deception

Is where this all leads…”

And looking right there

No ruse could be found

Just honesty and innocence

In those orbs large and round

So I grabbed his small chin

In my large, calloused hands

Opened my mouth

And then asked him again:

“Hey there, young man

What is your name?”

Then his eye colors changed

And I filled up with dread

Oh no! No, no, no!

A voice yelled in my head

And his mouth started to curl

On each side toward his cheeks

In gleeful preparation, I guess

Getting ready to speak

Then my fingers let loose

Of his young fragile jaw

And moved toward my ears

As he opened his maw

Too late to miss it

I plugged my ears with my fingers

The effect of that only

That the words they just lingered

Bounced

And echoed

Around

And around

In my head

Regretted

The dreaded

Sound:

“What”s my name?

Puddintane!

Ask me again and I’ll tell you the same!

Ah ha ah ha ah ha ha ha ha

That’s my name!

It’s Puddintane!

Say it again and it sounds the same!”

Come on now, ask me

Ask me, my friend

Oh please, please, please

Woncha ask me again?!”

© 2021 greg cain

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