Just So
By John Herlihy

Some people like everything to be just so;
Their attire neatly arranged from head to toe.
Their schedule well appointed, their nails clipped;
They move steadily forward and never stand tripped.
Nothing untoward ever happens to sully their name;
Endless drive and pure perfection their claim to fame.

There is sometimes the issue of thunder in the house;
Everyone thinks they are as faultless as a quiet mouse.
The wife, the kids go about as blameless as morning sky;
You would think they were little angels fallen from high.
They run about like devils, only their laugher left to catch;
They invent lies and innuendo he couldn’t possibly match.

But one day, something strange happened to his dismay;
Everything turned upside down without a word to say.
The day proceeded hell-bent when nothing was just so;
People carelessly bumped into him as if they didn’t know.
Why even his own shadow seemed to do what it wanted,
Mocking and mimicking him in ways unjustly flaunted.

Finally, he’d had it that night when he saw his own ghost,
Set to work in his place, within his own house now the host.
When he sat down in his easy chair to smoke his beloved pipe;
Wife and kids ignored him without so much as a single gripe.
He suddenly came to the realization that he wasn’t even there;
Everyone went about their business, with only him left as spare.

Am I dead, he thought, as pipe smoke in puffs appeared,
Writing little curlicues in the air before they disappeared.
He looked down at his nails that were once shiny and pink;
Then he looked inward as his beating heart began to sink.
You can imagine his surprise to see nobody from head to toe;
The world still in its place but him, and everything just so.