A-Z sketches in verse: Making Much

Max, of himself he maketh much –

Holds conversations in his clutch.

As those around are too polite

To call him out, no end’s in sight.

He pours his overflowing cup,

Just like a choir, warming up.

It’s “La-la-la” and “Me-me-me.”

He sings his solo, though off-key.

And to ourselves, we hope alike

That laryngitis him should strike.

(Or someone has to swipe his mic.)

c2015 by Linda Ann Nickerson

 

 

Image/s:

Vintage/public domain artwork

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