Sonnie At Improv

There is didactic getting in the way, pulled
from an internal window shop that a megaphone
bought into, skint, unheard of inside itself
as the megaphone’s mouth—what it could do with it instead;

but there’s a word for pervy… Can you guess what it is?
I was talking to you. This is as far as the adverts go
plus some. If anything else was believed to be there, the nepotism
would matter: I am short-changing

in the middle of the chorus; when really
we all have the same hymn sheet—you just shouldn’t
point at it, look at it, mention it,
see it surface. That… that…

I am so sorry—truly—
but I can’t do this.