Odd Man Out

ODD MAN OUT

He pushes into the crowd

trying to be part of the circle,

talking 'cool'

or 'tough,'

although he is neither.

"Wanna see my knife?"

he wheedles,

as if that were enough

to make him a man.

When they joke

he sneers,

"That ain't funny, 

let me show you funny,"

and then he falls

on his face.

No matter the subject, 

no matter the speaker,

he is a seagull

dropping his waste

over everything they have,

incensed at his exclusion.

Alternately gruff

and ingratiating,

his failure

at joining the 'In' crowd

eats him thin

so he tries again

using the same techniques,

expecting different results.

They laugh at him

to his face

and behind his back,

keeping him around

as a jester

without giving him the freedom

of a jester

to speak his mind.

I never told him

I was glad he was there,

so the odd man out

did not have to be me.

----

Shared with my peers over at DVerse Poets

©2010, 2021 Christopher Reilley 

This poem appeared in Grief Tattoos, 

which is out of print, 

Kindle edition HERE.

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