Fakery

My dear sir

I have a bone to pick with you

It eats at me 

Causes me consternation 

I roll it over in my mind

I can find no peace

You sir profess to traditionalism

To keeping with the old customs

To biding with cultural acceptability 

But sir you do me wrong

Indeed you do a great misdeed

Your words say one thing

Your efforts another

A simple announcement of your engagement

Quietly placed

Carefully worded

Coinciding with the requirements of polite society

Mary Post would have approved

Miss Manners applauded

Your nod to proper courtesy causing a ripple of high regard for your appropriateness

And you sir bask in your propriety

Remind us daily of your consonant decorum

But sir 

Behind the sheer curtain of your seemliness lurks the truth

Of an elicit child growing in the belly of your affianced

Casting a bulging shadow over your noteworthy respectability

Raising silent questions of integrity

Of unspoken hypocrisy

And yet all remains quiet but for your cries of privacy

However the fact remains 

A new life develops in utero

And you forgot to wrap your willy

Now you face a new challenge

Truly 'tis no man's business but yours

And no woman's but hers

The details concern me not

But professing to adhere to tradition

While clearly acting to the contrary

Well sir

You wound me with your dishonesty

And snub me with the futility of it

The having of a child brings great joy

Do not hide behind a false facade 

But come forth 

Show a father's delightful face

Share the anticipation of birth

Tell of your plans, worries and anxieties

Bring back your good cheer

Return to your spontaneity

'Tis much better than faulty pretense and calculated fakery

Carefully placed alongside drab and colorless answers

©kcasady2015

Long Johns

My Dear Sir:

I hope you brought your long johns
The cold permeates walks with the hound
She of course dons her Pendleton
I sally forth wearing multiple layers and a hat
Moving our limbs warms us
And towards the end of the jaunt
Our hearts beating fast
We shed scarves and gloves
Letting the chill descend upon us
Anticipating the waiting pot of hot tea

But you sir
Have come expecting to defrost and frolic
To collect accolades
And inspect your newly possessed uber estate
The one with grand views of the sea
Sprawling and gated
Private
Keeping you from the mega suburbia of this land
Noisy with deceiving sunshine
Hiding behind frozen breezes
And crisp blue skies laden with ice
So while the hound and I enjoy our milky builders tea
You might perhaps pour a cup of Earl Grey
Or even throw back a whiskey
To warm your ice-capped bones
Awakened in brazen frost-bound surprise
©kcasady2015