She gives me a wan smile
As I wander into the kitchen
Exchanging pleasantries,
ant thoughts,
Until:
“I think Scar is gay,” she says
Because Lion King is the gas station all millennial conversations eventually stop by
(According to Google, 2014).
“Yeah, I could see that” I say.
Flouncing Disney villains, everywhere:
Oily Jafar, taunting Aladdin
Radcliffe in self-absorbed finery
Ursula, painted from a drag-queen’s stencil
Fabulous, flippant Hades.
At least those damned to hell
Shall rule?
But try as they might
They are always at least two lines away
From acknowledgement.
Evolving Exactness 