GET OVER IT

by Teresita Perez



There once was a tied dog
from my neighbor next door.
The dog would bark all night.
Bark, bark, and bark so more.

I couldn't fall sleep.
My sleepless nights dragged on,
while my eyes drooped all day;
people thought I was drunk.

So I complained and fussed;
and told the neighbor, "Dear,
your dog's tied to a tree
and my window is so near

"that I can't fall sleep.
I am awake all night.
Take your dog far, far away.
You are wrong. And I am right!"

But one good day, alas,
my brain resolved my cry
interpreting the dog's bark
as needed lullaby.

And from that day I slept
and rested in delight.
The more the dog kept barking,
the better was my night.

But, lo, behold, bad fortune,
from the neighbor's final act.
He took the dog away
as a matter of fact.

And that night I lay awake
in the stillness of the dark
hearing the awful silence
of not a single bark.

For I had grown accustomed
to that which I did hate.
The musical background
of barks as happy fate.

That's how I lost the dog
but learned, and that for free:
A bark is as annoying
as one makes it to be.

So when a man complained
the A/C near his head
made noise and kept him from
sweet resting on his bed.

I said, "Oh, you just wait,"
And told about the dog.
His wife laughed as I said,
"And you'll sleep like a log."

And now, my dear, young artist,
is your problem a fan?
A fan which spins so loud
that concentrate you can't?

Well, let me now acquaint you
with the tale of a bark.
Lay back, relax, and listen
as if a singing lark

adorns the boring ceiling
from whence there comes that sound.
It is not noise but music,
turning round, round, and round.

Behold! You brain is spinning
like the... You get my drift?
Dream on, the fan's applauding,
and exercise your gift.