As he was rather over-sized,
He was a giant, I surmised,
Who must have suffered from a very
Poorly tuned pituitary.
I stopped and watched: he didn't move,
Apparently not in the groove;
Although he didn't look moronic,
He was surely catatonic.
I cleared my throat and asked him "Hey,
Do you need help? Are you okay?
I notice you look somewhat green,
So what's the problem here, old bean?"
The fellow didn't answer, so
I shrugged it off, and turned to go,
Not really certain what to do --
Call 911, or let him stew.
Thereafter, it appeared to me,
Folks looked at me peculiarly.
I wondered why, and questioned one
I cornered where he couldn't run.
"What's wrong with all you people?" I
Made bold to ask, "You're troubled. Why?"
"We think you might be crazy, man:
You just addressed a cast Rodin!"
Originally published in SUL News Notes, April 8, 1994.
c 1994, 1995 Fleabonnet Press for the author.