Dismissed out of hand

for a few years.

Quaint at best,

A nuisance for certain.

But certainly not

dangerous.

Slander assured

type casting

as the bad apple,

a sinister label

he wore casually like denim.

It did not so much stick,

but instead, formed

a protective shield

to operate behind,

in isolation.

Oh, the outlandishness

of his unscripted

improvisations.

It’s nothing at all

they would tell their superiors

who questioned

the unexpected

recurrences of chaos

boomeranging on them,

upsetting their proverbial

apple cart.

No, really, in unison

they harmonized,

attempting to reconstruct

the comfort of their denial,

it’s nothing at all.