Showing posts with label The precious children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The precious children. Show all posts

Monday, October 10, 2011

What Could We Possibly Tell The Kids?

How do I stop them as they are toddling towards the shore of that vulgarly poisoned pond
What do I say when they ask where all of that trash on the side of the road comes from
How do I explain why the sky is a dirty brown so often when we are riding to their school
Help me to fit the filthy homeless we see downtown into our rosy picture of family life

How do I spin this dust and grime into a happily ever after that a simple little kid can buy
I need a way to say we just can’t afford to try and deal with climate change right now
Let me convince them that baby jesus knows everything but still let that Bambi get run over
What do I say when they ask why our putrid river doesn’t look like the pretty ones on TV

I need a good story about why we have to live in this tiny apartment after our foreclosure
How do I compete with all the slick ads they have seen when we are out grocery shopping
How can I actually convince them that homework is more important than texting friends
Why should they listen to me when they see me raging so uselessly at the endless traffic

What lessons can I impart to bring sense to this vast de-construction we call our progress
What do I tell them when they show me pictures of songbirds that no longer visit our yard
Why would they need to study hard to get into college if Dad just keeps being outsourced
How do I show them that our god speaks the truth but all others are false idols to be smashed

How do I sell them that healthcare competition gives us a choice of ERs when they’re sick
Why would they want to eat anything but colorful, sugar-filled, fat-ridden, salty, fast foods
What do I tell them when they say they hate those dirty kids who don’t speak any English
How would I make them actually prefer reading to playing first person shooter games

How can I convince them that it wasn’t always just mud, garbage, broken glass and dog goo here
Help me create a story about being too tired just getting the family by to try and save the world
Give me a child’s takeaway for the shopping carts filled with castoffs being pushed on city streets
Show me how to spin this bleak joblessness into a wondrous chance to be with Daddy all day

What do I tell them when they ask me where our water comes from and our poopie goes
What am I supposed to do when their teachers fill them with guilt over our CO2 emissions
How do I weave those poor frogs with 3 legs into our family tale where everything is beautiful
Help me explain why the school says we must make them take their ‘vitamin’ every day

I need to convince them that once our garbage is out of sight it can stay out of their minds
They must internalize that we are the victims of the unplanned effects of our own scripted actions
They cannot view our grooming products as causing fish some kind of icky reproductive issues
They mustn’t connect our neighborhood runoff with the toxic brew that is nearby surface water

Let me explain to them why we must bail out the banks but not the solar companies
Work with me to show them why it’s OK to toss out so much stuff after every trip to McDonalds
Prove to them its better to go play outside than to sit snacking enjoying electronic entertainment
Sell them on employers that will discard them forever at 50 to a society of Personal Responsibility

Monday, September 12, 2011

Saint Mother


Oh, Saint Mother won’t you hear my mumbled greeting, yeah, I forgot to make my bed
And wont you just wash these dirty clothes for me, maybe just this one time again
Sweet suffering woman, hear my loud laughter, stumbling and cursing
I’ve come home to wake you thoughtlessly, once more, at 3AM

Well, that neighbor’s dog went and took a crap right on her lawn once more
And the garbage men left some messy stuff on the ground as well
She still cant get on her computer but she found her cellphone when I called it
Says she needs a brand new car and her couch is just plain worn out

Dearest Maaa, we’re still out of sugar frosted flakes
And when you’re going shopping, hey, we need more chips and salsa
Hail Mommie, full of grace, please, I am so hungry just like all those times before
It’s OK if you don’t have time to cook for us, we can leave you the kitchen mess

Mom, I’m really busy right now but I’ll try to call you sometime this coming weekend
Yes, we sure are looking forward to seeing you again, just like we did last year
Oh quietly suffering Mother, blurting out your bitter loneliness, once more upon the phone
Finding meaning when that nice, clean young doctor takes the time to talk to you again

You know that I am special and a truly gifted child, but shortchanged by our awful schools
And though I’m not quite so cute at 28, I still play on your instinct toward the precious children
My little friends and I, scuttling thru your free kitchen, in the dark of night
Our shiny wrappers and empty bottles accidentally dropped in the driveway

Well, old WhatsHerName died, you know that friend of her great Aunt Fannie’s
She says the only real socializing she has at this time of life is at all the funerals
A real nice man called her on the phone and they chatted for a while
They sprayed some kind of mud on the roof and took her for close to 1500 bucks

Still nursing some wack dream about us all being together as a family once again
Cant remember that it never worked out at all so long ago when we were kids
Saint Mommie don’t you call me to take out the trash, cause I just cant come right now
My ADD is kicking in so I need to stay right here and keep pounding on this game console

Repeating pointless stories of long dead people we never knew well enough to even forget
Brokenly reciting that long list of expensive Meds over and over once again
In a pathos of pluckiness she still dyes her own hair odd colors and really trowels on the makeup
Sitting there with that nice man on the right-wing TV who angrily explains everything so well

Mom can I use your car cause mine broke down out in the sticks at 2 AM last night, but it’s all good
I’ll never know how much that late and thoughtlessly scribbled birthday card really meant to her
Dear Saint Mother I don’t need you anymore cause now I got a wife of my own
But we’ll be dropping off the kids again this weekend cause we know you love them so…