You And Your Lots- Butterfrogs Poem by Catherine Yen

You and Your Lots- Butterfrogs

Your tongue always parrot the old tunes
Like a camel cried over the aeon on the roof
Repeated to see the time off
But your eyes are blind
Your face shrank
Your thought shriveled
You are never curious
Of what the ontology of the world is
Clutching your hand on a wall of an old age
Swimming and swaying with a hideous decay
Neither you nor your lots aware
Seeing nothing fail
A self-denial may win a self-praise
Contrarily the all time self-praise brings a catastrophe

You usurp the height
Rot on the pavement where you rotten half
Those the miseries of the world are misery
And will not let rest
All else you can find is only a haven to shelter
Still, an old tune with parrot tongue
Singing all the way down to the street
To my dismay
Dare you interpret and rank others
In literature the promising land
You are old enough and hideous the theory you bear
Ensnaring you in an oblique web

No kudos but pathos mourned for you
The challenge is rising
Grins high above the waterline
Power and freedom
The dilemma
Castrating your pride and blindness
I laugh at you
Like a butterfrog
With wings and legs
Bumping the butts
Will you jump?
Will you fly?
Unconscious still in the deep pond
Cooked by hot water
Bubble away like a smoke in the air