The words Dog. Banana. Wooden. Metaphysical. Andrew. Gesticulate were texted to me by James Bruce, and accidentally inspired a sequel to last Saturday’s Puppy poem. Weird…
He was a funny little boy, our Andrew,
Unique, you could say. Or else sulky, wooden.
He wouldn’t speak for days: I’d go bananas.
And he’d do nothing but gesticulate.
Though, when he talked, he’d get all metaphysical
He’d ask what Jesus looks like to a dog.
He was determined, then, to have a dog.
And very single minded was our Andrew,
When I’d say no, he’d wax all metaphysical:
He asked me, once, if grown-up souls were wooden
To not love puppies. He’d gesticulate
His rage, till we all thought he’d gone bananas
For weeks he would eat nothing but bananas
“I’ll eat my carrots when we’ve got a dog”
What could I do except gesticulate
And dust my knick-knacks and ignore poor Andrew?
He’d got to learn, although my heart’s not wooden,
Sometimes the answer’s “No.” so metaphysical
That boy, he’d always get so metaphysical!
Just six years old and munching on bananas
His sullen face as stiff as any wooden
Mask. And all he wanted was a dog.
It broke my heart to disappoint poor Andrew,
But how his father would gesticulate!
(Like Dad, like son: they’d both gesticulate
When angry) If the metaphysical
Had become physical, and little Andrew
Had got his puppy: he’d have gone bananas!
My husband never could abide a dog.
And I preferred my pets polished and wooden.
I see now why he thought of us as wooden,
Why he would sulk, and then gesticulate:
We could have made him happy with a dog.
Instead, our household never met a physical
And vital life, and so we bought bananas
And slowly crushed the dreams of little Andrew.
A dog just might have made us act less wooden
And Andrew might have stopped Gesticulat-
Ing. Metaphysically, we’re bananas.
Tom Juniper Poetry 