I find you nestled betwixt the cloud white
covers of a somber two page spread.
Death and lemonade: complimentary
flavors to dance on the tongue.
First read’s frustrations’ quizzical:
Why must the author make JFK bear this cross
rhyme, his dirge a sing-song comedy?
The editor place the page beside:
an ode to saccharin summertime?
Sweet or bitter lemonade–
makes no difference.
We all just gulp it down.
This poem was inspired by an initial criticism I had of a two-page spread of a children’s book of poems. This spread featured a jolly little poem about lemonade followed by a poem with an alternate (cross) rhyme scheme about JFK’s assassination.