If You Know the Shape of Gone

Too cute by half. We’re like that.
You can make us work hard, hard,
When you all zoom in on rules
For how we have to mean things,
Just to serve your need to talk.
But we’re sly. We slip and slide,
And most of you don’t like that,

While some of you grow too fond
Of the things we get up to
If you let us squirm those rules.
Next thing you know, we’re off, gone,
Green thoughts tossed in our own dreams,
And you’re in a fix, tongue-tied
By your own lust to play tricks,

Like a goon in a kid’s show
Trussed up by the smart-ass kids
Who’ve fled to raise hell, like us.
Of course, the kids will grow up,
And ‘til then we still need you,
Not one or a few of you,
All of you, to make us rules.