Demoted
I am a student of low-affect living
edged with self-deprecating irony.
I exist on the edge of nowhere.
Since 1930 I had been part of the club.
I had always attended meetings,
and I (usually) knew my place in line.
I am bigger than New York City,
yet somehow they rejected me as too small.
Who is this "they," anyway, determining my fate?
So what if I am cold-hearted, or I have a stony exterior?
So what if I follow a different path?
(Who said mine's even wrong?)
I am just as important as the other eight.
I mean, really -
Now what is My Very Energetic Mother Just Serving Us Nine of?
I'll tell you one thing: it won't be Pizzas.
Who'd want a "dwarf" pizza, anyway?
I don't feel like a dwarf.
Well, maybe compared to Jupiter or something.
Perhaps it was all that self-deprecation?
I wish I were a planet again.
By Jessica Baldwin
© 2011
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