-The “fool me once fool me twice” Eulogy-

It was the 4th of April

And I still wouldn’t open the closet door

In the bedroom I shared with my younger brother.

He didn’t define “April Fools’ Day”

The same way most others did with innocuous
(although immediately thrilling) fool’s-hooks of:

“Hey! We’re getting out early today”!

Or the kid with a fresh-cut “Beezer” telling me:

“Pamela Mello said she likes you”.––

My little brother was not so fundamental.

Rather, he was inventive at engineering the fool's caper
Like a mad magician with his hand in the top hat

And he wants me to open the closet door.

He’s been asking me to it for 3 days running.

He must think I’m an idiot.

Look at him, sitting at the edge of his bed,

Same pajama pattern as my pajama pattern,

Penguins, of all things— and staring me down

Like a Slasher in a B-movie just before the kill.

I’m finding myself growing weary of the hunt,
Falling into his trap by thinking:
Maybe it’s okay.

Maybe he’s afraid to open the door

And I’m his big brother

So he wants me to reassure him

That there aren’t any monsters in the closet.

After-all, it’s April 4th, not April 1st.

But that face,— those goo-goo eyes,— the little sneer of the mouth,

The underlying anticipation tingling throughout

His central nervous system...

And yet, as always, I opened the closet door,

Inch-by-inch until the last fraction of resistance gave way 

And bundles under pressure, the soft-packed
Stuff of his cunning, tenacious campaign came falling
Down upon my head.

He waited 3 days for me to surrender to his diabolical scheme. 

But time was irrelevant to my little brother and I was doomed
From the moment the plan was hatched in his brain.
He would have waited 'till Hell froze over for me to open that door.

                                                                                    c. 1952