Serious Prediction. No Stares. Right There. (A Sestina)

Imagine this is something serious,

Within the realm of prediction,

And without needing to shout “no”

And thereby lead to interesting stares.

All can be avoided if you just write.

Just sign your name, there.

 

You think they’re

Nothing but serious

And don’t know wrong from right.

That they’ve forged a prediction

Making you climb endless stairs

While keeping you out of the Know.

 

But you think you know.

You think you see plots within plots, their

Continuous twists and turns creating stares

Bridging on serious.

You see that prediction

And think to yourself, “Right.”

 

So just sit yourself down and write.

Show me what you think you know

About this so called prediction

Give me your John Hancock, there

So I know you’re serious,

So you won’t have to climb anymore God damned stairs.

 

You actually want the stares

Though, am I right?

You want the attention and serious

Face-time, to be in the Know—

You want more of their

Precious prediction.

 

While they help you with your pre-diction

God knows

You can’t form a coherent sentence. There

Look at what you’ve gone to write.

You see nothing but stares

And you’re nothing but serious.

 

You think the prediction is right

You know, the stares know

They’re all serious.