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THE CRITIC'S AURA
by
G. Wesley Dixon

You breathe a special fragrance,

I smell it all the time.

Your aroma is a balance

Between a skunk and a lime.

I don't know how you do it.

Your odor changes every day.

Do you school to have a fit?

Do you train for your spray?

One minute you are so sweet,

The next you are harsh and rough.

Tell me, is it easy with two feet

To kick others as one big tough?

The field can be full of cacti,

But I never walk that way.

I don't visit with the knifer

And I avoid the critic's spray.

We all have a special atmosphere

We broadcast far and wide,

Say what is in your aura, mere

Particles of shallow snide?

Auras must have special attention,

They change like the chamelion.

Don't take the fun out of dysfunction

And prove your aura's damnation.


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