the back is the beginning

I read the blurb to you, the back, with all its fancy and post-modern words.
“Hyperkinetic, hurtling into consciousness, unaffectedly affecting”
“Doesn’t it sound good?” I asked.

You would not glance, look, read. So you are blameless in all of this.

Still I think you are wasted. You are content to
stay at home. Work. Read aloud the story of Alice down the rabbit hole and
explain to your children,
that Lewis Carroll was a mathematician too.
Could be more than one thing, did more than one thing.
Had more than one choice, made more than one choice.
One, two, three, more, more, more.

Your dreams for them are simple. Kiss them on the forehead,
play cricket in the backyard, prune the vines in the winter.
I will teach mine relevance, independence, influence.
I want mine to speak in tongues, when I introduce you,
don’t expect your English. It may not ever be my language,
and it will not be ours.

One day, perhaps,
they will do
what I wanted to
while I waited for you.

You would not glance. Your eyes did not dart to the left. You only closed them to blink.

So you are blameless in all of this.

@2 years ago
#poetry