the parade

you are not fond
of parades.
they bore you.
you would never
be in one. riding
in an open car
waving to strangers
as they waved back.
switching
arms when one
got tired. your
smile no longer
a smile by a
grimmace as the tuba
section bellows
behind you.
the flag waving.
the floats
and girls with
batons. you don't
understand how
they even came into
existence, these
parades. you shake
your head and say
what. say why.