At The Park

by Amichai Abraham

The wind blows through my hair, but my hat remains on my head tight.

A family is having a picnic; boy, are they in for a fright.

“Goodness gracious!… Golly gee!… Oh my!” I hear all at once.

They think I’m a fool, but they’re the ones staring at my dunce.

Some people have begun taking pictures of me; I’ve never thought of myself as a model.

Apparently, I remind some of them of Donald Duck; wait until they see me do my waddle.

These people must have a thing for basements because they keep looking downstairs.

They tell me that this is no way to get women; what do they know of my love affairs? 

A teenager zips past me and falls off his board; he must be learning how to skate.

He says it looks like a train hauling bulk goods; just call me a freight.

How bizarre; I think the lady over there is calling the police.

Even stranger is that people have begun surrounding me; they’re offering me their fleece.

The police arrive and stare at me in disbelief.

“You’re all just jealous,” I yell at them, “You’ve all chosen to be confined to your briefs!”

They handcuff me, but I stand erect, proud, and maintain my composure.

“Tell me what I’m being arrested for!” I demand. The cop replies, “Indecent exposure.”