When I was nine, I was mercilessly teased
(one might say bullied) by eleven-year-old
Theresa D, whom we all called Terri.
One day on the schoolbus, Terri sat next to me
and said "From now on, I want you to call me
'ma'am.' Do you understand?" With perhaps
the slightest hesitation, I said, "Yes, ma'am."
Terri roared her derision. "You're doing it?
I don't believe it! What a wimp you are!"
I wish I had had my fifty-year-old mind
(agile, confident, playful, and chivalrous)
back then, at the age of nine. I would have said,
"You want me to call you 'ma'am'?" Oh, no!
That simply won't do! It's not humbling enough
for me, and not respectful enough to you!
How about 'Your Royal Majesty' or 'My
Sovereign Queen'?" And then I would have
knelt before her, and pledged my undying
allegiance to her benevolent reign.
Poetry by Tommo
Read 20 times
Written on 2021-06-11 at 09:23
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