He took offence at something that you said,
That stranger in the poets' lecture hall,
"I'll show you what a firecracker is!"
He said. You laughed, seemed not to mind at all.
But later, when the parcel came, all shabby,
A size and shape suggestive of - a bomb,
You took it, shook it, gazed at her in worry
And tried to take a brave hold on aplomb.
"It's likely just cigars," she said, half shrugging,
"I don't smoke - it's well known," you replied,
"But I've a mind to just undo the wrappings...."
You did so - a cigar box - loosely tied.
"The seal looks like it might have been refastened,"
She said and you could not help but agree.
And suddenly the tension burst in action,
"I'll throw the goddamned thing against a tree!"
She put a hand to hold you, then withdrew it,
She might as well have tried to snuff out stars.
You flung the box in angry, mounting terror,
And showered the back garden in cigars.
(from MOON MADNESS and Other Skywritings)