Camouflage

Somebody
was supposed to protect him,
but here they were
screaming at each other.
He’d try to
become part of the couch.
That was attention
nobody wanted.

Just the other day,
he found something
that untied the knot
inside him.
That walking monkey
flicked his ear
again,
and he let loose.

To realize
that it was just one punch
to turn that arrogant,
cocksure fuggedaboudit
ape face
into a mix of
blood, tears, fear and pain…

Finally he was in charge.
He could protect himself.

One day, they could
sit around over beers
and compare crowns.
Maybe they’d even claim
they did it
so he could
take care of himself.

But for now,
he was trying to wish
his skin
into a couch pattern.

-GD Butler

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