Sigmund the Cant Lover

When two bikers came at us, we registered fear;
Sigmund grew bigger eyes when said bikers got near.
On my one hand my two-year-old, lump in his throat;
near my bosom my six-week-old, under my coat.

(We agreed, Sigmund and I, to go to the Point
to get tickets for a sing that featured, Anoint.
Sigmund remained on edge to see new band extant
since he read that their music was loaded with cant.*)

“Bring the little ones—two-year-old, and baby too!”
“Tis no time,” Sigmund uttered, “for us to eschew.”
“Songs are churchy—they sermonize—it is fresh air!”
(I agreed to the Point since, deep down, I did care.)

(Tis unusual cant resounds sternly with Sig;
  it seemed piety with him was never that big.
  But I threw in the cloth and with children I trod
  o’er the pathways of gravel, hot asphalt and sod.)

But the bikers strode at us in ominous walk;
I surmised they were able to do more than talk.
Dressed in black with long beards and bandanas all right;
it was like ZZ Top full of steroids and spite.

Who am I to assume such a negative bent?
Perhaps bikers themselves are sometimes Heaven sent.
Still I clutched my bambino and two-year-old tot
as if I were a safe house on protected lot.

Sigmund gulped and breathed heavy and tempered his pace
and was suddenly sideways, bereft of all grace.
There was nothing to do except pause and abide
yet in truth I was thinking of, When Worlds Collide.

A surprise was in store when one biker showed tact;
with aplomb and sly grin he held out a Chick Tract.ª
it was Sigmund who fronted them, righted from slant;
he said, “Thanks for religion, but truly, I can’t.”


32 Lines
Anapestic Tetrameter
Writer’s Cramp
8-5-16
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*Cant…hypocritical and sanctimonious talk, typical of a moral, religious or political nature.
ªJack Chick Tracts promote Christian Fundamentalism. 
When Worlds Collide is a 1951 Sci-Fi movie produced by George Pal.