[Carol Taylor]

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<tr><td>Serenading the Neighbors

Little Albert has a way
of driving all the neighbors mad,
a trait, his mother likes to say,
that he borrowed from his Dad.

Let the moon rise late or early
Albert's little voice will trill
as he plays his ukulele
underneath the window sill.

When Dad gets up to sing along
their voices piercing through the air,
the neighbors know there's something wrong
and fall down on their knees in prayer.

Mother says they’re being spiteful
barely holding back her tears,
and thinks Dad’s voice is quite delightful
for someone who's been dead for years.


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What a hilarious little ghost story! Every detail--the moon, the outdoor singing by night, the location of the singer, the reaction of those neighbors--acquires new unsuspected significance with the last line. And is "Little Albert" also among the departed? We're not told, but I want to think so! And how perfect that the music is being performed on a ukulele, and that Mother still appreciates Dad's singing: flawless, the whole thing.

~Rhina

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[Roger Slater]

Gosh, I wonder who wrote this one?

The final tweaks have been applied since this was posted, and I agree it now is perfect.

[Janet Kenny]

Yes Roger, I'm really racking my brains.
There's a poet cartoonist in Australia, Michael Leunig, who is the only other human who could have thought of this one.
I agree with Rhina.
Janet

[Marion Shore]

Gosh, who could it possibly be?
Does Stephen King write light verse?

So funny, it's scary. (Or is it the other way around?)

[Kevin Andrew Murphy]

I guessed from the title even before I read the poem. There are certain titles that have just the right ring to them.

This is one of the funniest ones I've read by this poet yet.

[wendy v]

Ja, Albert is a sugar pie. I especially like how the last line sounds almost like a parenthetical statement.

Dear Anonymous Poet,

Just one nit: I believe 'windowsill' is one word.

; )

wendy

[David Anthony]

Yes, clever and funny, with real depth.
Surely this poet would have spelt it 'neighbours'?

[Maggie Porter]

Very pleasing.

Although "piercing" usually does so by going "through" something and the redundancy here is not particularly acceptable.

As well:


When Dad gets up to sing along
their voices piercing through the air,
the neighbors know there's something wrong
and fall down on their knees in prayer.

Boy. Misplaced modifiers you say? How about misplaced everything?

This wonderful little thing deserves a fine tooth comb eh?




[This message has been edited by Maggie Porter (edited December 05, 2004).]

[Rhina P. Espaillat]

Please specify, Maggie: what strikes you as "misplaced" here? I agree that some word other than "piercing" would be an improvement, or maybe "piercing the_____ air." There should be a comma to end the line before that one, too. But I don't know about anything "misplaced" in the rest of this stanza: help me with that, please.

[Maggie Porter]

When Dad gets up to sing along
their voices piercing through the air,
the neighbors know there's something wrong
and fall down on their knees in prayer.

The pronoun usage in this is clumsy. Dad gets up to sing along WITH their voices...otherwise, without the idea that it should be understood (as in The Quick and The Dead in which the poet was delivered significant grief over a misplaced modifier...proper spoken colloquialism in my opinion..turned eyes toward me....) then we must hold the same standard for this poem which muddles around between, dad, the neighbors, the coupling of the boy with his dead dad all singing along under the pronoun guise of "their"...and landing on THEIR knees! Good grief.

Of course, I understand the notion and I believe the poem is so strong that this clumsiness is overlooked because the "heart" of the poem is fantastic.