There’s a little kid
Strolling along the sidewalk
He starts to whistle a random Bieber song
I almost feel an
Urge to jump and throttle him
And shove a saltine sandwich into his mouth

I sit alongside the sidewalk
And contemplate a tune to try
But shortly it occurs to me
That I’d sound like a dying kettle

I purse my lips
Together but air comes out
I cannot
Even make a sound
I curl my tongue
Behind my lower set of teeth
And then
I spit on someone

Added fingers to the mix
And the spit trickles thickened
I’d pay anything to learn how to
Carry a tune
Sprinkle in some warbles,
Vibrato, and duotone
I will be a whistling queen
And all my friends will be so jealous

I can’t whistle
Not even a wolf-whistle
People have
Sympathy for me
Until I make
Another whistling attempt, which
Fails so
Bad I shrivel up

Wish I could whistle
Be a human jukebox
Carry a tune
Wish I could whistle
With or
Without fingers
Wish I could whistle
Have musical workdays
No more spitting