"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



Why is it that lately    the people who sit

down beside me   fight mercilessly?

Yesterday  in the park  I carefully

spread writing tools across   picnic      table


Mother    & daughter with baby    arrive

& proceed to sit beside   procrastinating poet

Within 10 minutes they are seething

While I am seemingly   invisible    and begin to wonder      if perhaps I am


They soon scream insults  shamelessly

As baby sleeps through 2  generations

airing dirty laundry    And parkweary poet

waves earplugs    menacingly



*as I scramble back to civilization  I see   little hairless one

beating clenched fists   against seething breasts   3rd generation

indoctrination    into family pastime


Mid-Summer  2013

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