I Would Rather Be a Beagle Than an Eagle

A haiku sounds like a Japanese sneeze to me
I am sick of sonnets as anyone might be
Who has written one thousand three hundred and some
Mostly for a girl who treated me like a bum
Rejecting me for a German paralegal

Now my brown eyes are those of a beaten beagle
But if I learn haiku I will write one for you
Writing all those sonnets gives me something to do
And it could be the blue-eyed Aryan master race
Might yet receive from me a cream pie to the face

All these years I had thought that losing World War Two
Had discouraged them from treating people like me
As lesser children of a lesser destiny
I would rather be a beagle than an eagle
Anyway

Let us pray
That someway somehow someday we can all be free
Both the rejecters and rejected: them and me

+Steven Curtis Lance



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