Reflections on the Twins

They dance
They prance
they climb, panties high, on the buffet
they throw their shoes
and hairbrush
and insults
at the waiter
they preach
they screech
manners in a modern world
parents look on
not a word
not a look
engrossed in
their own display
of dismissal
snap your fingers,
like being treated
less than human
I’m sure
it will get you
waited on
and laughed at later
flies and honey?
you attract more flies
with the swat
of the Wallstreet Journal
than by any
passing show of respect

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