Reflections

If we ignore the private lives
Of key but boring businessmen,
Why is it public interest thrives
On entertainers’ errors, then?

Is twenty-four and seven how
We ought to hold them to account
No matter what they disavow
While doubts from even groupies mount?

I go so far as to include
A settlement outside of court
For child abuse, alleged lewd.
Some thought the man a sickish sort.

When on the stage, though, who could think
Of anything but that at hand?
A white-gloved hand as he would slink
And moonwalk backward dancing and . . .

. . . at once belt out his famous songs.
My God, how he could mesmerize!
The King of Pops, who now belongs
In Neverland of distant skies.

Off-the-Wall, and Bad, a Thriller.
On the wall in Michael’s mirror:
This man whispers words I can’t understand,
He wants to guide me, he takes my hand.

f you are with him, take his arm.
Beginning with the Jackson Five,
You brought more happiness than harm,
Yourself a child, sakes alive.